


Now You've Got To Breathe

by LStilinski



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/M, be nice, ok that's my first fanfic here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-26
Updated: 2016-06-18
Packaged: 2018-02-14 22:37:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 31
Words: 57,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2205570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LStilinski/pseuds/LStilinski
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the accident that took his parent's life, Stiles locked himself in his own dark and private world, alone with his demons. When a certain strawberry blonde enters his life, there's nothing he can do but watch as she breaks his walls.<br/>[NOW ON WATTPAD]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> I'm finally posting it here, so please, be nice! I'm already apologising for any grammar or spelling mistakes... and review if you like! It's really, really important!

The lack of air, the pain on every inch of his body, The cold air coming through the broken window. The blood.

Everything around Stiles was red.

The only sound was the cars passing in the distance. He wished that someone - anyone - could come and help. Despite the cold breeze outside, it was incredibly hot inside the broken car. Like it was on fire.

No, _he_  was on fire.

It started on his head and spread to every bone in his body, like a cancer. Something was wrong. Even if he could feel the pain, couldn't feel his body. It was like he had lost control.

"Mom," Stiles' voice cracked when he called, but he didn't hear the female voice he was waiting. He tried again: "Mom?"

He took a deep breath. It wasn't happening. She was ok, just hasn't woken up like he did. She had to.

"Dad?" He called. Somehow, my dad's hand was close to him. Stiles suffocated a scream when his arm burned with pain as he tried to reach his dad's hand. He shoke it, but the man didn't move. "Dad!"

For the first time since he opened his eyes on this car, Stiles had the feeling of pure fear running in his veins. Tears fell from his eyes and he called for his parents again, and again, and again, and then he realized there was no one to listen. He screamed for help. He screamed like he never did, ignoring the pain, he screamed again. _I'm gonna die_ , he thought to himself. _I'm gonna die, I'm gonna die, I'm gonna..._

Stiles woke up with his scream hold on his throat. His face was wet with sweat, and so was his shirt and pillow. He was breathing rapidly, his chest burning in pain.

There was no air. No air.

_Panic attack._

He threw his legs off the bed and stood up. Immediately, he felt dizzy, like he had left a roller coaster, and almost fell back. He managed to go to the bathroom, holding on everything he could on his way. The lack of air was making his head spin. He stood under the shower and turned it on. The shock of the cold water on his skin, before warmed by the covers, made him hold him breath for a few seconds.

Stiles rested his forehead on the cold wall and closed his eyes, breathing slowly. Even if the panic attacks happened for years now, everytime it did, it felt like hell. They would come every time he had that nightmare. But he knew it wasn't just a nightmare. It was a memory. The memory of the night that changed his life forever.

That goddamned car. That accident.

Stiles turned off the shower and dried myself. He put on dry boxers and sweater pants and returned to bed. He stared at the white ceiling of his room, not even trying to sleep again. He knew it wasn't going to happen. Well, he should at least try, since tomorrow was the first day at school before summer break. He doesn't use a whole minute to figure that he doesn't give a shit. So he watched as the night turned into day. He really liked to do this, watch the black turn into dark blue, and then into a not-that-dark blue, then explode in shades of orange, mixed with blue, and then that blue covers the whole sky.

The light blue sky didn't match with his miserable mood. The good part was that he was used to feel this way, so, no surprises. He stood up and dressed his everydays pair of jeans, one of his almost-identical t-shirts(along with his hoodie) and his black Converse. Grabbing his backpack, he walked out the messed room, stopping once to unstick a package of candy off his shoes.

Downstairs, his aunt was preparing breakfast. Stiles entered the kitchen, sat on the chair and let his head fall on the table.

"Good morning, dear," his aunt Melissa greeted him with a smile. "Ready for your first day?"

Stiles gave her a tired look. He really didn't understand why adults are always so excited about school. They don't have to survive hours of their days in a place designed to make you feel unhappy. Of course he would never say that to an adult, because he didn't want to hear the whole "Wait until you get a job" speech. Fuck their jobs. School is worse.

"No, I'm not," he answered as he grabbed an apple to eat.

Melissa analyzed him. "You look tired," she observed. "Did you sleep well?"

He didn't have to answer. By the look he gave her, she could almost read "SERIOUSLY?" written on his forehead. Melissa sighed. When he was younger, she was the one who had always been woken up by his screams. He had to learn how to control his attacks by himself, so he wouldn't bother her anymore. Still, she knew everything he had been through. She understood.

Stiles sighed too. That's what he did to people: he worried them. He hated it. The pity looks, the sighs, all of it.

He finished his apple, grabbed his backpack and his keys and headed to the door. "Bye," he said.

"Have a good day!" Melissa said behind him.

He got in my Jeep, threw his backpack on the passenger seat and started driving to school. He had to fight with all his strength to not go anywhere else. It was his last year at school, then he would be free to run away. Most teenagers want to finish school, go to college and get a career, or meet some nice places. Stiles just wanted to leave. He didn't know where, of for how long. People said he had to kill his demons, to move on. _Kill my demons my ass_ , he told himself. Stiles wanted to hide from them.

 


	2. Chips

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I said this chapter should be out at saturday, but a changed a few things so it wasn't ready to post. Anyway, here it it, enjoy!

Lydia bit her lip for the hundredth time this morning. From the car window, she watched as all the teenagers met their friends, laughing, talking about their summers. She couldn’t hear the exact words they were saying, but she knew the subject; she had years of experience, since she was part of that group of girls that were always talking. First day after summer break was sacred.

For the hundredth time this morning, Lydia wished she was at her old school, with her old friends. It sucked that she had to move to other city on the last year of high school. This was supposed to be the best year of my life. She didn't know exactly why, but according to some movies she saw, it was supposed to be full of laughter and nostalgic tears. She always kept a secret dream of living a High School Musical life. 

"Sweetheart, are you ok?" Her mom asked with concern. 

Lydia sighed. "No," she answered truthfully. 

"Listen, Lydia," she said, “it’s just the first day. It may be awful, but it's just the first day. Everything is gonna be alright. You just have to get inside and be the wonderful girl you are."

Lydia sighed again. Her mom spent the whole past week trying to convince me that everything was going to be ok, that she would make friends quickly, etc., etc. Lydia just kind of hated the future tense of all the encouraging speeches.  She never was a very patient person. But she smiled a bit, to let the woman know that she was helping her. 

"Thanks mom." Lydia grabbed her bag from the backseat and opened the door. "Love you."

"Love you too. Good luck!"

She took a deep breath and made her way to the building. It wasn't hard to find the school office, where a middle-aged woman gave her schedule, a map of the school, and locker assignment. Lydia started to walk on the crowded hallways, trying her best to locate herself without running into anyone. Which didn't work so well.  Soon, all her papers were scattered on the floor and she was already apologizing. 

"Oh, sorry!" She told the girl she had bumped into. She leaned to grab the papers that had fallen from her hand. 

"No, it's ok," said the brunette girl, leaning too. She grabbed Lydia's map and handed it to her with her eyebrows arched. "Lost?"

Lydia could play cool and say 'of course not. I'm really good with maps'. But instead, she chose to say the truth: "Totally."

The brunette smiled. "Ok, let me help you." 

Lydia handed her the papers and the brunette girl studied them for a few seconds. Then she gave it back to her with a smile. "Your locker is pretty close to mine... And have the same first period. Just follow me."

"Oh...ok," Lydia said smiling. She was relieved to not run into someone that would make her feel worse than she already felt. "Thank you so much."

"No problem," the brunette replied. "I'm Allison, by the way," she said as they started to walk.

"I'm Lydia," the strawberry blonde replied. Allison showed her where her locked was, with Lydia trying to memorize the right hallway, but since none of them had nothing to put there, they headed to their homeroom. 

 "So, are you new here? I don't remember seeing you around here," Allison asked as they sat down on their desks. 

"Yeah, I just moved here with my mom. She got a promotion, and we kind of had no choice.” Lydia shrugged.   

"I know how it feels. Happened a lot to me, until my parents settle down," she said. 

"It sucks," Lydia confessed. 

"You'll survive," Allison said with a smile.  

The teacher entered the room and immediately started talking, welcoming all the new students and old ones, and all the usual first day shit. When he began to talk about History, Lydia bent down to grab her notebook from her bag. The speech was interrupted by the sound of the room's door being opened and closed, and Mr. Banner's maniac laugh. 

"Mr. Stilinski, what a pleasure to see you!" The teacher said. "I even had the thought that you finally dropped school."

Lydia lifted her eyes to see the boy who had arrived. When she did, her green eyes met his dark ones and she shivered. The guy looked bad. He had a pale skin, with dark half circles under his eyes. His hair was a mess, like he had just waken up, but his expression said he didn't sleep at all. Actually, he looked like he was about to faint. 

"Sorry, Mr. Banner," he said with a mocking smile. "But I guess we'll have another year of fun."

The smile despaired from the man's face.  He obviously wasn't used to irony being used against him. "Sit down, Stilinski, before I give you a detention."

The guy nodded and went to sit on the back of the room.  He didn't make a sound the whole class, which made Lydia believe he had fallen asleep. 

Which he actually did. 

Stiles fell asleep after the first hundred words. Mr. Banner had this power to make everything that comes out of his mouth sounds boring or maniac. Listen to him was a test of endurance, and Stiles wasn't exactly in the mood.  So he rested his head on his folded arms, and it was pretty easy to fall asleep. He had had barely six hours of sleep the night before. The guy needed some rest. 

The class ended and, after everyone had left the room, Lydia stayed to check her schedule. Allison had already left for Math, but, according to her schedule, Lydia had Biology. The good thing  was that she loved Biology, or otherwise be apart from her new friend so soon would make her day suck even more.  

She sighed and stood up, grabbing her bag. She was almost out of the room when she noticed there was someone else in the room. Lydia turned on her high heels and saw a guy with his head buried on his arms. She hesitated before taking some steps on his direction. She recognized him as the Sti-something guy.  She couldn't just leave him there. 

Lydia hesitated again before shaking his arms lightly. She jumped back when he suddenly sat down. If that was possible, his hair was  even more messy. He looked around like he didn't know where he was. 

"Shit," he said deadpan. Lydia was thinking about leaving, since he was awake, when suddenly stood up, making her jump back again. He grabbed his backpack from the floor and looked at her like he hadn't noticed her there. "What are you doing here?"

Lydia lifted one eyebrow. "I study here."

"Yeah, I figured that," he said, impatiently.  He hated when he was waken up. Stiles usually didn't have problems with that, anyway. "Aren't you supposed to be somewhere else?"

Now both of Lydia's eyebrows were lifted. "So do you."

Stiles rolled his eyes. "Whatever," he said, walking past her. 

Lydia let out an incredulous laugh. She should have left him there, that son of bitch. She shook her head and left the room after him. The hallway was deserted, except for them.  The boy walked lazily, practically dragging his feet on the ground. Lydia rolled her eyes as she walked on her own speed. 

Stiles yawned. His will to have classes was negative. Even if he liked Biology, he rather skip classes and learn alone, which he usually did when it was impossible to keep his eyes open.  The good thing on sleeping during classes was that he would never get a deep sleep, so he didn't have to worry about nightmares. 

Stiles heard the sound of heels tapping on the floor. When he turned around he saw that the light orange haired girl was walking behind him. He had noticed her; not just because her hair color stood out between blondes and brunettes. _She_ stood out. 

Stiles shook his head. Why was he even thinking about this? 

"What?" The girl suddenly asked. Stiles didn't notice that she had stopped, and now looked at him with her eyebrows arched, because he had stopped and stared at her. 

"Stop following me," he said dryly. Lydia opened her mouth to say something but he had already turned and restarted to walk. 

She shook her head and went after him. "I'm not following you, we are just walking in the same hallway," she said. "Because we're in the same school."

He looked at her with no expression on his face. Lydia lifted her eyebrows, but he didn't say anything. He just opened a door and entered the room. Lydia went after him. He went straight to the back of the room without saying a word, and she sat in the middle. From that guy, she wanted nothing but distance. 

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On our free period, Allison showed Lydia the library. She knew that place would be one of her favorite places in this school. The people in the small town she lived were satisfied with a few shelves and a table. Lydia always compared the size of the libraries with the size of the people's brains. She loved the city she lived, but sometimes she had the feeling that there was no enough space for her and her plans. But Beacon Hills High School's library was just huge. It would take years to read it all.

Apparently, most of students liked to spend their free periods on the library, because the place was crowded. There was a study group meeting (which was weird, since it was the first day of school. Probably, they weren't talking about Chemistry), people looking for privacy to talk about whatever happened on their summers and people who actually went there to read or study. The poor librarian was going crazy trying to control all the wild students. 

Lydia left Allison talking to an Asian girl and wandered between the bookshelves. She couldn't wait to pick one of those books and devour it. She took one and started reading the back. 

"Son, you can't eat here," said a female voice next to her. Lydia turned her head and saw the old woman standing next a boy sitting on floor with a pack of chips beside him.

"Sorry, Ms. Flowers," he murmured. 

The woman shook her head a throw her hands up, exasperated. "I'm too old for this job. Seriously, I quit," she said to herself as she returned to her desk. 

As soon as the older woman was gone, the guy buried his hand on the pack and pulled more chips, shoving them into his mouth. Lydia recognized him as the guy who claimed she was stalking him. Before she could stop herself, she said:

"Didn't you hear what she just said?"

He lifted his head, with his mouth full of chips. "Ah, you," he said. 

"Yeah, me," Lydia said. "What part of 'you can't eat here' did you not understand?"

Stiles rolled his eyes and returned his attention to the book on his lap. "Mind you own business."

Lydia scoffed. "This place was basically made for the students, and there are rules, so yes, I think I am minding my own business."

"Do not disturb is one of the rules too, you know," he said. 

Lydia arched her eyebrows to him, but he still didn't look up. "Did you just tell me to shut up?"

He opened a mocking smile. "And here I was thinking that you're stupid. Congratulations. "

The girl blinked twice. If that was a God' test of patience, she was sure going to lose it. "I rather be stupid than be a sociopath with a persecution syndrome.”

Stiles closed his book and stood up. If she was a man, she would probably win a broken nose right now. He approached her, keeping almost no space between them. He was one head taller than her, but she didn't move her feet. 

"Listen here, ginger..." He started saying with a very, very controlled voice. 

"Don't call me ginger," she interrupted him. 

"I'll call you whatever the fuck I want..." he said, but he was interrupted again, this time by Ms. Flowers, who watched them with an angry expression. 

"What's happening here?" The older woman asked, but she didn't wait for the answer. "You two, out of my library!"

"But..." Lydia tried to say. 

"Now!" the woman replied, and stormed out, throwing her hands in the air. 

Stiles bent down to grab his belongings, and, with a last pissed glare, he left. Lydia let out an angry grunt and went after him. The hallways were empty; the only sounds were their own footsteps. 

"Well, thank you very much for this," she used her best sarcastic tone, speaking loud enough for him to listen. 

"Anytime, babe," he said without turning around. 

"Don't you fucking call me..." she hissed. 

Stiles turned and walked on his back. "What are you gonna do about it? Call the cops?" He let out and small ironic laugh and turned again. "Bitch," he mumbled. 

"Asshole!" Lydia didn't mind keeping her voice down. 


	3. Staring Sessions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys for the kudos and comments!! Please leave one if you like it :)

Five. That was the number of hours Stiles had of sleep last night. Looking at the mirror, he could see the effects of the shitty night on my face. His skin was pale, dark circles under his eyes. At this point, he was more than used to have this vision in the mirror. Maybe he did look like a vampire, or a zombie, but he didn't care anymore. He could even brag he didn't have to use make up to look like this. It could help a lot at Halloween.

It was only the end of the first week at school, and Stiles was already tired enough to sleep the whole next week. He almost laughed at the irony of his own irony. He couldn't even have a whole night of sleep, so sleep a whole week seemed as possible as a coke rain.

Stiles grabbed his backpack and headed to the front door, stopping by the kitchen to grab an apple. His aunt had already left for work, so she wasn't there to make him eat a toast, or any other breakfast food, even knowing he never ate too much in the morning. Usually, just an apple was fine, and at this point she was careful to never forget to buy them.

He walked to his blue Jeep and headed to school, driving slow, enjoying the cold breeze on his face. Who cared if he was going to be late for school? Stiles obviously didn't.

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Lydia must have exceeded enough red lights to have a driver's license confiscated forever. No matter what she did, she always ended getting late for school. It was the same and old summer costumes: go to sleep at dawn, wake up at the end of the day, and she still had to choose her look, that could take hours.

"Almost there, almost there..." she murmured to herself.

When she finally got to school, she parked and practically jumped off the car, locking it behind her. She heard the bump of another car door being closed, but she didn't mind looking back to see who that was. Lydia ran to the building, straight to the classroom. When she got there, Mr. Banner had already begun his class. He turned to her with a smile playing on his lips.

"Ms. Martin, I'm glad you made it!" he said.

Lydia felt her cheeks burning red. "I'm sorry, Mr. Banner, I... I..."

He lifted one hand in order to make her stop talking. Lydia blinked. "Save your words, Ms. Martin. I'm afraid I'll see your pretty face later on detention."

Great. Absolutely great. Lydia sighed and nodded. "All right, Mr. Banner."

The man smiled at someone behind her. "Same goes to you, Stilinski."

Lydia's whole body tensed. She slowly turned around to face to boy behind her. He still had those dark circles under his also dark eyes, and his hair was the same mess. Looking at him more closely, she noticed he was, actually, pretty. Very pretty.

"Thanks for the compliment, Mr. Banner," he said, giving the older man a playful smile. "You don't look bad yourself."

The man's face turned into stone. "Sit, you two," he said through clenched teeth.

Lydia hurried to sit behind her friend, who looked at her with concern. The boy did it on his own pace, clearly aware of Mr. Banner's lack of patience, and love to play with it. He sat and looked up at the older man with a sardonic smile on his face, and Lydia could swear she heard Mr. Banner grunt. He managed to pick up where he left off, but she didn't turn to pay attention to him, because at that moment, the boy's eyes met hers.

For a moment, Stiles couldn't look anywhere else. He had the feeling that even if Mr. Banner started to tap dance, he would 't be able to look away from those green eyes. Because they were nothing but beautiful. Gorgeous. Amazing. Stiles was surprised about the large number of adjectives that popped into his mind. Shit. He shook his head and looked down at his hands on the desk. What. The. Fuck.

When he looked down, Lydia turned so fast to face the white board that it made her head spin. Wow. She stared blankly at her desk, recovering herself from all the staring session. That was so intense that Lydia still felt a little dizzy.

Allison turned to her, frowning. "Are you ok?" She whispered the question.

Lydia looked up and gave her friend a weak smile. "Yeah, I'm fine."

Are you?, she asked herself.

Stiles spent the rest of his day avoiding her, which wasn't that difficult, since they had nothing to talk to each other. The simple thought of spending a whole hour locked with her made his whole body tense. And he hated it. Who was she, what had she done with him?

When the bell rang, announcing the end of the classes, Lydia groaned and let her strawberry blonde head fall on her desk. As the other teenagers left the classroom, relieved that they could finally go home, she grabbed her bag and made her way to the library where the detention would be. Dozens of excuses to leave this place crossed her mind. She could fake a faint, or fake a psychotic attack. Sadly, she was a terrible actress.

Mr. Banner waited for her by the library's doors. He was smiling. Jerk. "Ms. Martin!"

"Hi," she said, not as far as happy as he was.

"Please, come in," he said as he opened the doors for her. "Where's Stilinski?" He asked before she could step in.

Lydia shrugged. "I don't know."

The man breathed sharply. "Bastard!" he hissed as he turned around and practically ran down the hallway.

Lydia entered the library. She had never seen this place empty. The dead silence made the place look creepy. She shivered and sat on a chair, dropping her head on the table, like she had done before. A few minutes later, she heard the sound of someone screaming in the distance.

"Take your hands off me! You can't do this! I have my rights!" That certainly was him. One of the doors cracked open, and Mr. Banner entered, pushing the Stilinski guy by the arm. The boy struggled and screamed more threats. "I'll call the fucking cops!"

"Do this, your little delinquent," the older man said with a manical smile. "See you in one hour. Have fun." And with that, he let out a maniac laugh and left.

"Asshole," the boy said.

He was clearly avoiding her. Lydia thought is was fine, since she had been doing this herself. He went to the farthest table from her, which she also thought it was fine. Distance was good. Lydia sighed and opened her bag to find the book she had picked from the library. Good thing she had it with her, or this would be an hour in hell.

Stiles sat his ass on the chair and stared at the ceiling. Everything was cool on the first ten minutes. After twenty minutes, he started to regret enjoying the breeze in his car. After forty minutes, he was starting a list of ways to kill yourself in a library. He had problems with staying quiet, and feeling trapped was the icing on the cake of anxiety. Stiles dropped his head on his folded arms and took a deep breath to calm himself.

Lydia couldn't say she was completely focused on the book on her hands. She was more than aware of the boy sitting on the other side of the library. His leg was bouncing up and down so quickly that it almost became a blur. He kept his head on his arms, and his thumbs were tapping the table, maybe playing some random music.

He leaned back on his chair. His sudden movement made Lydia jump and almost drop her book on the floor. She watched as he grabbed a small box and something that looked like a lighter from his pocket. Oh wait. That was a lighter. He picked a cigarette from the box and brought one to his lips.

Lydia gasped. "What are you doing?"

He didn't look at her, and flicked the lighter. "What does it look like I'm doing?"

She shook his head and closed her book. "You can't smoke here," she said with a controlled voice.

He lit his cigarette and took a long drag, then he leaned back his head and blew the smoke to the ceiling. "This is a free country," he said, still didn't looking at her.

Lydia crossed her arms and took a deep breath, ignoring the smell of the smoke. "Well, this," she gestured to the large room. "is a library, and you can't smoke in here."

He took another puff as he walked to the window next to him. "Watch me, ginger."

Lydia felt her face burn with anger. That was enough. Nobody called her ginger. Nobody. "Listen here, you jerk. Do you want to set this whole fucking library on fire? There are faster ways to die."

Stiles raised his eyebrows. He had to admit that she surprised him. With all the skirt, make up, high heels and perfect hair, he would never take her as someone who swears. He also had to admit that was hot. Very hot.

When he didn't say anything (and probably just stared blankly at her), she walked on direction, with a determined expression on her face. When she was close enough to it, she pushed the cigarette from his fingers.

"What the fu..." he started saying, but then she threw it out the window. Stiles stood there, totally paralyzed by her attitude. She also stood there, staring back at him.

"You shouldn't have done this," he hissed.

"And what are you gonna do?" She asked with a low voice.

Stiles narrowed his eyes and was ready to throw her some bad words when the door cracked open behind them.

"All right, you're free to go," they heard Mr. Banner's voice say. "And I hope you learn to... God, what is this smell?" He wrinkled his nose.

Lydia smiled triumphantly. Suck it, you bastard. He looked at her, daring her to tattle him. She raised one eyebrow. She could very well tell Mr. Banner what really happened during this detention, and that boy would be screwed. The proof was in his pocket, there was no he could walk away from that.

But she realized she couldn't.

He didn't say 'please'. He didn't show any sign of worry, of fear. He just looked at her, with those eyes, that she discovered to be whysky colored, and not black. Bastard. Lydia couldn't do this.

"It smelled like this when I got here," she murmured.

Stiles' eyes grew wide. She didn't tattle him like he thought she would. She actually saved his ass from a year of detention, even after the way he talked to her. She gave him one more look before turning around and walking out.

"Come on, Stilinski," said Mr. Banner. "Or do you want another hour?"

"God, no," he mumbled and hurried to grab his backpack and heading out the library. He didn't want to spend one more minute on this disguised hell. Or near her.


	4. Hold Your Tongue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the kudos!!

Lydia was a hurricane on her room while she spun around the place, shoving everything she needed for the day on her bag. She had studied until late the night before, more out of habit than necessity and now all her books and notebooks were scattered everywhere. She didn't understand how her room could be so messed up in so little time. How did her laptop ended up under her bed?

She ran downstairs straight to the front door. If she wasn't so used to using heels, she would probably fall down and break her neck, which wasn't good for her plans of getting to school early. Fortunately, she got downstairs with her neck intact and extra time.

"Lydia!" her mom called, coming from the kitchen. She was wearing a gray dress and heels, which means she was working this morning. "Sweetheart, aren't you going to have breakfast?"

"Sorry, mom!" Lydia ran to her and gave her a kiss on the cheek. "I'm super, super, late!"

"No, you're not," the older woman said, checking the golden watch on her wrist. "You still have forty minutes before your class starts."

"What!?" The girl yelled, checking her phone. According to the time on the screen, she was still very, very late. "No no, there must be something wrong with your... Oh!" she said, because she remembered she had advanced her cell phone's clock.

Her mom rolled her eyes. "God, Lydia, you're always doing this." The woman walked to her daughter and pushed her by the arm, leading her to the kitchen. "Come on, you have to eat something.

Lydia sat down and started eating her Cheerios as her mom watched her. "So, what was all that hurry? Have you been late lately?"

The girl rolled her green eyes. Her mom was like a best friend to her, but sometimes she got the feeling that she was the adult in the house. They wouldn't be having this conversation if her mom didn't have to go to work, otherwise she would be still asleep. Lydia always tried not to bother, because the woman was her mom, and she loved her. She liked to feel independent, but sometimes she missed someone taking care of her.

Lydia sighed. "I got a detention this week."

"Lydia!" She exclaimed.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you, ok?" The girl said. "And if you really wanna know how that went, I got stuck in the library for one hour with a weirdo."

Her mom crossed her arms on her chest and arched one eyebrow. "Really? You two, alone?"

"Yes."

"Was he cute?" The woman asked with a smile.

"Yes." Then she realized what she had said. "Wait, what?"

The older woman started giving her that conspiratorial smile, and Lydia hurried to stop her. "God, mom!"

"What?" She blinked innocently.

Lydia shook her head and grabbed her bag. "You're unbelievable," she said. I kissed her on the cheek and head to the front door.

"You know we are gonna talk about this sooner or later, right?" The woman asked from the kitchen. Lydia could almost hear the smile on her voice.

"I choose later!" She shouted, laughing. "Bye, mom."

"Bye, honey!" her mom shouted from the kitchen. "Have a nice, nice day!"

Lydia laughed and shook her head as She walked to her car. Her mom was a teenager dressed like an adult.

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Stiles had had one of those tough nights. How many hours had he slept? Three? Four? He should stop counting, since it wasn't getting any better. He had tried every medicine, but the nightmares always come back. Alcohol was one of them, but could only use it on the weekends, because face several hours at school with a hungover would suck. At he least he could get a few more hours of sleep.

Stiles couldn't keep his eyes open, he didn't even know how he was able to drive without causing any accident. He got to school early, the parking lot was almost empty. He had time for a nap. He leaned his seat back and lay on the most comfortable way to him, slipping his beanie over his face. He fell asleep as soon as he closed his amber eyes.

Lydia drove to school and got there about twenty minutes before the bell ring. She parked her car and walked to Allison, who was sitting on a bench, with a book resting on her lap. The brunette smiled when she saw her friend.

"Hey, you're early!" She greeted her.

"Yeah, I didn't want to risk another detention." Lydia shrugged.

Allison closed her book and gave her friend an amused look. "What happened yesterday that traumatized you so much?"

Lydia sighed and sat down. "Basically, I got stuck in the library with a cute asshole," she said and then she mentally slapped herself. "Wait, I didn't mean to say that."

Allison laughed and arched her dark eyebrows. "Really?"

"Yes!" Lydia hurried to say. "He's nasty, and weird, and extremely...

"Cute?" The brunette guessed.

"Rude," Lydia rolled her eyes.

Allison nodded, but, by the look her friend gave her, Lydia knew she would never get over that. The truth was that she didn't want to admit that she had thought about him the night before. More specifically, his amber eyes. But knowing the idiot he really was, Lydia rather erase that episode from her mind. She didn't mean to say 'cute' everytime she talked about him.

"He smokes," Lydia commented, to confirm her point.

Allison nodded. "Yeah, right." She wasn't buying it.

"We should get inside," the strawberry blonde girl said standing up, wanting to end the awkward moment.

The brunette stood up and, together, they walked to the building. When they passed by a blue Jeep, Lydia stopped. From where she was standing, she could see that the seat had been leaned backwards, and there was foot was sticking out of the window. She smiled internally. She did not have to peek into the car to see who that was.

"What is it?" Allison asked.

"I... uh... I think I forgot my phone in my car," she said. "I'll meet you inside."

The brunette nodded and continued walking to the building. Lydia turned and walked in the car's direction. She questioned herself what the hell she was doing. She had told herself to stay away from him, for her own safety. But she didn't stop herself. Lydia suddenly thought about that people who went on a storm hunting, just looking for adrenaline. She was hunting trouble.

He was lying in a not-even-a-bit comfortable way. Half of his face was hidden by a black beanie, and his mouth was hanging open. Sleeping like a baby.

And he looks so damn cute, Lydia thought.

"Bad night of sleep?" She asked loud enough to wake him.

He reacted as if he had taken an electric shock, sitting so fast that he hit his head on the steering wheel.

"What the fuck?!" He shouted. His hair was as messy as always, and he had the same dark circles under his eyes. He rubbed his forehead and looked at her with nothing but anger on his amber eyes. "What the fuck is wrong with you, you bitch?"

Lydia forced herself not to take a step back, and took a deep breath. His words hit her like a slap, but she couldn't say she didn't know it was coming.

"There's nothing wrong with me, but thanks for your concern," she said. "I can't say the same about you. You look pretty bad."

Stiles rested his aching head on the steering wheel and closed his eyes, waiting for the blur on his vision to go away. He hated to be waken up, and this girl seemed to like doing this. What was wrong with her?

He couldn't say, anyway, that it wasn't good to open his eyes and see her. o the contrary, it was a very pretty view. She was very pretty.

Uhh, what was wrong with him?

"Fuck oooff," he moaned.

"You know, this is a free country," She quoted the same words he had said to me. He raised one eyebrow. Ha, she was enjoying it. "And we are in the parking lot. School propriety, you know?"

"Jesus Christ," he breathed. Suddenly, he opened the door and jumped out the car, standing right in front of her. There was hardly any space between them, she could feel his breath on her face. This time, she took one step back.

"Listen here, ginger," he said in a low and threatening voice. "You don't know me, and I don't know you. So, for the greater good, you better stay away from me. Do you understand?"

Lydia kept looking straight into his now dark eyes, like he was doing to her. There was a part of her that wanted to do exactly what he was saying, that wanted to turn around, walk away and never talk to him again. And there was the other part of her that kept telling her to face him, that She wasn't scared. And she wasn't.

"Don't call me ginger," she said, using the same tone that he did. He raised his eyebrows as her lips curled into a malicious smile. She turned and walked away, making sure her hair swung dramatically behind her.

Stiles stood there, watching her leave. He couldn't not notice the way her hair shone in the sun, like vivid flames. His eyes wandered to her hips, swinging to the left, and to the right, and then to the left again...

Wow, Stiles, he snapped to himself. Get your shit together.

He took a deep breath, opened his door and got off the car. While he walked to the building, the bell rang and all the students in the parking lot started walking in the same direction. Stiles fastened his pace so he wouldn't be swallowed by the wave of teenagers. He ended up running in the hallway. When he entered the room, she was already there. She seemed to be discussing with that brunette that scared him, but she suddenly lifted her eyes, and they found his. Stiles quickly turned to sit on the back of the room, afraid to let what happened the day before, the staring session that almost drove him crazy, happen again.

When Lydia entered the classroom, Allison watched her sit down with one lifted eyebrow. Sometimes, the brunette could be scary. Lydia rolled her green eyes.

"Did you get your phone?" The brunette asked.

"What?" For a second, Lydia didn't know what her friend was talking about. "Oh... Yes! Yeah, it fell from my bag..."

"Right..." Allison nodded. She clearly wasn't buying it. "And where Stilinski enters the story?"

Lydia's green orbs grew wide. Sometimes she could swear Allison could read minds. How did she know? Before she could answer, the teacher entered the classroom.

"Were you spying on me?" Lydia whispered.

She heard Allison laugh. " No, Lydia. You can blame the goofy smile and the exchanging of glances."

Her jaw fell. Lydia took a few seconds to put herself together. "I don't know what are you talking about," she whispered.

Allison laughed again. "Ok, then..."

Lydia shook her head. She couldn't be that obvious. She was usually very good at hiding her feelings. Usually. She forced herself to keep looking at the teacher in front of her, even if she wasn't actually paying attention to what the older woman was saying, and not turn to look at him, just to be certain he didn't have a goofy smile on his face.

"I wasn't smiling..." she murmured.


	5. Needing a Break

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello guys!! Thank you for the comments and kudos!!
> 
> If you want to follow me on tumblr: keep-yourwingscas :)

It was far too early to wake up on a Sunday, but Stiles couldn’t stay home anymore. He felt like he was full of energy, like a bomb, ready to explode. The last few weeks had been just a sneak peek of what the year would be. 

And, of course, there was her. He had be trying to avoid her for weeks, but she just seemed to be everywhere. He didn't understand, she was just a girl, like the thousand others in that school. Then why did she have this...effect on him? Everytime his eyes met her green ones he could feel time slowing down, and she wouldn't look away, so he was always the one who had to do it. It wasn't that he was looking for her eyes on the crowd, but she was always around, inevitable. 

Stiles had to get my shit together, and get everything else - anger, anxiety, pressure, confusion - out of his system. He emptied my backpack and filled it with everything he needed for his day-off. He went downstairs and headed to the kitchen, to grab some food. 

His aunt was having breakfast when she saw him. She looked at his backpack suspiciously. 

"You woke up early," she commented taking a sip from her mug. "Are you going out?"

"Yeah," he responded, putting all the snacks he grabbed from the pantry in his backpack. 

Melissa sighed and landed her mug on the table. "You are going there again, aren't you?" She asked. When he didn't answer, she shook her head. "Stiles..."

"I'll be careful, ok?" He interrupted her. She was still looking at him with concern on her eyes, and he sighed. Stiles never got used to people taking care of him, mainly because he preferred to watch his own back. "I promise." 

Melissa looked more relieved after his last words. "Just come back before it gets dark, ok?"

"Ok, ok." He hung the backpack on his shoulder and walked to the door. 

"I mean it!" Melissa shouted from the kitchen. 

"OK!" He shouted back. 

Stiles made his way to his Jeep and drove up the road until he was almost out of town. He left the asphalt and parked his car behind some trees. The trail he was getting into wasn't large enough for car, so he would have to make his way on the woods by foot. Most of teenagers liked to go to the park, to the mall, or to the movies when they wanted to distract themselves. He liked to go to the woods. 

Stiles followed his trail until he got to an abandoned house. He had found this place a few months after he got in Beacon Hills, years ago, when his life was a total mess and he was trying to run away from his problems. Find this house was like a miracle to him, since it wasn't that easy to find. So he made that place my refuge. The whole house was filled of dust and falling apart, but he never minded cleaning or fixing it. 

He took off his hoodie and walked up to the part of the that he assumed to be the living room. There, he found my most effective relaxing instrument hanging on the ceiling: a punching bag. One of the doctors be went to had told him that he had to find his own way to relax (Except using drugs, of course. Not that he haven't tried.). In one of the appointments, Stiles was so pissed that he punched the doctor, and then he finally found the man's advice very useful. 

He stood in front of the punching bag, taking deep breaths and stretching his upper muscles. The he put on the wrist wraps and gave the first punch. And the second. And the third...

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It had been a couple of weeks since Lydia moved to Beacon Hills, and several weekends had passed, and she had the feeling that she didn't get the chance to relax not once. 

She woke up early on Sunday, and spent minutes and more minutes staring at her training shoes. Finally, she decided to get up and get dressed. She put on a black tank top and black cotton shorts, which ended up being a nice gym suit, along with her shoes. She held her strawberry blonde hair on a ponytail, grabbed her iPod and went downstairs. 

"Good morning," her mother greeted her when she reached the kitchen. "Going for a walk?"

Lydia sat and served herself some orange juice. "Yeah... I guess I need a break."

"Oh yes, believe me, I do," said the older woman. There was a moment of silence, but Lydia knew her mom wanted to say something, because she was watching her eat. The girl didn't ask what was it, because maybe she could protect herself from an awkward talk. Because her mom never hesitated to say something, unless it's something awkward. 

"Is it about the cute guy?" Her mom blurted out. 

Lydia almost chocked with her juice. "What?!"

The older woman shrugged. "When I was your age, I always worried about my shape when I started liking a boy."

Lydia blinked. "Oh my God... What are you talking about? What boy?" She asked. 

"That boy you got in detention with," her mom said, smiling like a gossiping teenager. "You said he was cute."

Lydia closed her eyes and mentally slapped herself. She should never had said that. Now her mom would ask about him everytime she had a chance. 

"I didn't meant to say that..." she said slowly. "And now I'm leaving before it gets too awkward."

"Ahh, don't drop the bomb and leave! At least tell me if he is a good kisser!" Her mom begged. 

"Oh my god..." the girl said as she grabbed her things and left the kitchen. "Bye mom." She heard the woman laughing from the kitchen. 

Lydia entered her car and started driving. She remembered that the first time she saw Beacon Hill's reserve, she told herself to go there someday. She always liked to spend hours on the park on her old town. She missed her free times, and was willing to distract herself. 

She finally got to the bridge that would take her to the trail she wanted. She got off the car and breathed the clean air, smiling to the beautiful Sunday morning. She pressed play on her iPod and started walking. 

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx 

After hours of punching, Stiles finally stopped. His arms and back muscles ached, but he felt good, like he just got off a relaxing bath. There was almost no illumination on the room, and he realized it was getting late. He unwrapped the wrist wraps, put on his hoodie, grabbed his backpack and left the house. He walked silently, paying attention on every sound on the woods. Fortunately, there was only the sound of the small animals that lived there, nothing as dangerous as a wolf or a coyote. 

Meanwhile, Lydia was definitely lost. She had walked and singed out loud for hours, admiring the nature around her, when she realized that it was getting dark. Plus, she was starting to feel really dumb for not bringing water with her. 

Lydia was passing by the same tree for what seemed to be the fourth time when she heard something coming from the trees. Fuck, she mumbled to herself. And again. Whatever it was, it was getting closer. Lydia reached down and grabbed a thick branch on the ground, holding it like a baseball bat, ready to act. But when she saw a malesilhouette, she completely failed on staying calm. 

"Aaaaaahhhh!" A high pitched scream came out of her throat. 

"Aaaaaahhhh!" The boy screamed back. 

"AAAAAHHHH!" She screamed even louder. Without thinking, she swung the branch and hit him so hard that he fell on the dirty ground. 

"Ow... fuck..." Stiles moaned. Black spots appeared on his vision, and his head seemed to be on fire. 

"Oh my God!" She exclaimed, dropping something the branch. She knelt down and her hands hovered over him, not sure of what to do. "I'm so, so sorry! You came out of nowhere, and I just..." She interrupted herself. 

Stiles looked up. It took a few seconds for him to see her face straight. "Oh shit," he said, because it had to be her. With thousands of places to be in the whole town, she had to be there. 

"You!" She gasped. "What are you doing here?"

He sat down slowly, and the bit of movement made his head spin and hurt even more. "What do you mean 'what am I doing here'? What are you doing here?" He asked back. 

"I... I went for a run and..." She sighed like she had to admit something hard. He lifted his eyebrows. "I got lost, ok?."

Stiles shook my head in disbelief, which made him a bit dizzy. "Why the fuck did you came here?"

"I don't know! I wanted to breath fresh air, and it seemed to be fun!" She threw her hands to the air. 

"Well, it didn't turn up to be so fun, did it?" He said deadpan. He tried to stand up, but he almost fell back again. She hurried to hold his arm, but he rejected her help. 

"I'm fine," he said. 

"You don't look fine," she pointed. "You're bleeding."

"Shit!" He touched his forehead and felt his fingers get wet. He took a deep breath and pressed his hand against the wound. "Great. Thank you very much."

"I said I'm sorry!" she shouted. "I was just defending myself."

Stiles grabbed his backpack and hung it on his shoulder. "Just leave me alone. I don't wanna risk being shot."

Lydia frowned. "I don't have a... Hey, wait!" She said when he turned his back and started walking away. 

"What?" he hissed. 

"You know how to get out, right? Mind if I follow you!" She asked. 

"You do what you want."

They walked in silence. Stiles was very aware of her presence behind him. The wind was getting cold, and she hugged herself. I focused on the trail ahead of me, trying my best to ignore her. His head hurt like hell, and he felt the blood dripping from his hand. He didn't dare to look. He couldn't risk to...

"Ei, can I ask you a question?" She asked, almost making him jump. When he didn't answer, she took that as a yes. "What is your first name?"

That question took Stiles off guard. Wow. He didn't know her name neither. They studied in the same school, had classes together, and he didn't even know her fucking first name? Why was he so upset? Because he was too busy noticing how beautiful her green eyes were that he didn't even mind to discover her name?

"So?" She pressed when he didn't answer. 

"Stiles," he responded. 

"Stiles," she repeated. "That's an interesting name." He kept in silence. He didn't ask, but she thought it would be nice to introduce herself, even if that wasn't the first time they talked to each other. "Well, Stiles, my name is Lydia, in case you don't know it."

He nodded. Lydia. A beautiful name for a beautiful girl. 

They finally got to his car. It wasn't so far from the road, but from where they were, Lydia could see that she hadn't been there before. She remembered exactly where she had parked her car, and there was no bridge near that road. 

"Where are we?" She asked. 

He turned to her and lifted one eyebrow. "Are you kidding?"

"No!" She responded, scanning the place nervously. "I mean I didn't park my car here."

Stiles sighed. "Where is it, then?"

"On a bridge?" She said, which sounded more like a question. 

He sighed again. He knew exactly were she parked, and they were a long way from there. Well, he was already in his car. He could drive home, take a warm shower and lay down on his comfortable bed. 

"Can you give me a ride? You don't have to take me home, just to my car," she said. He couldn’t leave her there. It was getting really cold now, she could get a hypothermia, or something worse...

"Stiles, please," she pleaded, pouting her bottom lip. The thought of being alone there, in the dark, terrified her. 

For a second, his eyes wandered to her lips, and then back to her face. Damn it. 

"Get in."


	6. Hard to Breathe

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oi oi, everyone! Again, thanks for the kudos!!  
> Don't forget to read my new story: Night Swings, and let me know what you think!

The car was in dead silence except for the noise of the car engine. Stiles kept looking directly to the road in front of him, ignoring her completely. Lydia bit her lip. She could quietly endure situations of comfortable silence, but the silence on the car was as far as possible from comfortable. Even though neither of them was talking, she could feel the tension between them, almost touch it. 

"How's your head?" She asked, finally breaking the silence. 

"Let's consider you attempt to kill me had failed," he said without looking at her. 

She rolled her eyes. "I said I'm sorry."

"And I heard all the hundred times you said that," he said. "But now I would like you to shut up."

"Stiles, I think you should..."

"No, I shouldn't," he interrupted her. "Shut up."

Lydia breathed to stay calm. She hated when people interrupted her, even more when she was trying to say something important. "I mean it, Stiles. I really think you should..." He gave her a look that made her stop talking. She threw her hands up, exasperated. "Fine! What is your big plan then, uhn? You wanna bleed to death?" She was definitely getting angry at him. Couldn't him just listen to her words and do something?

"The only thing I'm planning is to drop you off," he said. 

"You wouldn't do that."

"Wanna bet?" He teased. 

Lydia rolled her eyes. "Threat me as you want. You already look like you just got off a horror movie anyway."

"Very funny," he ironized. "At least I get to be the victim."

"Fucking victim you are!" she blurted out. "I'm here trying to help you, but you prefer to just stay there and do nothing!"

He seemed to listen to her words, even if he tried to ignore them. But the cut on his head was pretty bad. Even if his behavior was pissing her off, the vision of the blood staining his hoodie made her feel guilty. She had to review her self-defense tactics. 

Stiles touched the side of his face and looked to his fingers, now covered of blood. Then he saw that the palm of his hand was red from when he used it to cover the cut. There was blood marks on the steering wheel, everywhere he had touched with his bloody hands. 

"Shit..." he murmured, staring mesmerized at all the blood on his hand.

"Stiles..." She called with her voice full of concern, when she noticed that the color had left his face. But he didn't seem to be listening to her. Lydia was starting to feel worried that he wasn't even looking at the road ahead of him, when he suddenly pulled the car over. "Stiles!" She yelled when he jumped off the car. She went after him. 

It was happening again. Everything around Stiles was red. 

His knees buckled and he leaned on the car, then falling on ground. No matter how much he breathed, the air just wasn't enough. Lydia ran to reach him and help him to sit down. His face was pale as a sheet of paper. Stiles kept his eyes closed and his fingers were gripped like claws on the shirt over his heart. It looked like he was suffocating, with his chest raising and falling too quickly. 

"I'm fine... Just give me one... second..." He gasped. This couldn't be happening. The panic attack had caught him off guard, and now it was too late to stop it. 

Lydia knelt in front of him, unsure of what to do. Stiles kept his eyes closed and his fingers were gripped like claws on the shirt over his heart. She had absolutely no idea of what was going on, if it was an asthma attack or something worse, but she couldn't just stand there and watch him suffocate to death. 

"Stiles, what's going on?" She asked with a controlled voice. "Just tell me what to do!"

He kept his eyes closed and seemed too focused on trying to controlling his breath to even notice she was trying to help him. Lydia couldn't watch this, the pain on his face. 

She placed her hands on both of his shoulders. His eyes snapped open anf he looked straight at her. Lydia hadn't noticed how beautiful his eyes were. They weren't dark as she thought, but amber, almost golden. There was pain and even despair on them. Such feelings didn't match such a beautiful color. 

"It's ok, Stiles. I'm... I'm here," she said. "You have to trust me, ok? Just let me help you."

Stiles stared at her. What was she doing? Why was there? Why didn't she just leave him? All those questions popped into his mind while he looked into those wonderful green orbs. What was he doing? He didn't want her to leave. He needed her there, he needed her help, her presence. So he closed his eyes again, because he couldn't want this. 

"Hey, look at me," her sweet voice called. Stiles felt strange and violent goose bumps going down his spine when she placer her hands on both sides of his face. If anyone, at any time, had done this to him, he would jump back and tell the person to fuck off. But not now. He lifted his eyes to her again, and she looked intensively to him. "Just calm down,ok? Everything is going to be just fine."

Another wave of pain came from his chest. Without thinking, Stiles griped her arm, looking for support, just to know the he wasn't alone. Not now. 

"Breath with me," she murmured. 

Stiles shook his head. I'm trying, I can't!, he wanted to shout. But the way she was looking at him made it impossible to look away. 

"Come on, Stiles! This," Lydia put one of her hands over his chest, right on his heart, keeping the other on his face. "This is nothing."

His heart kept pounding like a drum under her hand, but his eyes never left hers. Lydia took a deep breath, and felt his chest rising along with hers. She kept murmuring soothing words until his breath finally started to slow down. 

His eyes kept locked with hers during the minutes of silence that followed. For a second, his glare wandered to her lips, and Lydia was sure he was going to kiss her. The simple thought made her face grow warmer, and she bit her lip. 

"Uh... Are you ok?" She asked when she finally found her voice. 

"What?" He asked back, his voice far away. Then he shook his head and sat straight. "Yeah, yeah, of course. I'm ok. Perfectly fine. I just... Wow!" Stiles stopped talking when she hugged him. For a brief moment, she rested her head on his shoulders, and her strawberry blonde hair brushed his face. It smelled like flowers, or something like that, and Stiles started to wonder how did she manage to fucking smell like flowers after a whole day in the woods. 

Lydia leaned back. "Sorry!" she said. She didn't know if she wanted to slap herself for hugging him before even thinking of what his reaction would be, of laugh, because Stiles was staring at her with his mouth hanging open, looking cuter than ever. He actually had to shake his head before saying anything. 

"It's ok, ahn... "He scratched the back of his neck. "I think we should... ahn... We should go."

"Yeah, all right," she agreed and got up. "Let me help you..."

"No, I'm fine," he said and got up too. He was still pale, but that was just his skin color again. When he opened the car door behind him, Lydia frowned. 

"Don't you think I should drive?" She asked. She still didn't know what had happened to him, and she couldn't risk him having another attack while he drives. 

Stiles looked at her like she had lost her mind and said the most stupid thing. "No."

"But..." she tried to argue. 

"Lydia," he interrupted her. She noticed it was the first time he said her name, and she liked the way it sounded on his voice. "You are not driving my Jeep. Period."

She rolled her eyes. Goodbye cute. "Sure."

"Do you still want that ride?" He asked as he entered his car. 

Lydia bit her lip. She walked around the car and sat on the passenger’s seat. During the rest of the trip, she couldn't control herself and kept sending him quick and concerned looks, just to check if he was ok. Stiles caught one of her looks and rolled his eyes. 

"Stop doing this," he said. "You are starting to scare me."

"Sorry," I said, turning my eyes to my hands resting on my lap. "I'm just making sure you're ok."

Stiles rolled his eyes. "I am fine," he said. 

"Does it happen very often?" She asked. "You know, these... attacks?"

He gripped the steering wheel tighter. He didn't want to talk about this. He was not going to talk about this. She wouldn't understand. His past was his secret, and since he moved to Beacon Hills, he hadn't talk about this with a single soul.

"Stiles?" She pressed. 

"It's not happening again." That was all his said. Lydia sighed and looked down again. The silence fell between them for a few more minutes before Stiles stop the car. She looked around and spotted her car parked next to them. "Here we are." 

Lydia unbuckled her seat belt and left the car. After closing the door, she leaned on the window. "So... Thank you for the ride," she said. 

Stiles nodded. "You're welcome," he said formally. 

She gave him a small smile and turned back as he turned up his car. She only took a few steps before turning around. 

"Stiles?" I called. 

"Yes?"

"Be careful, ok?" She said, because she would feel a bit better about letting him driving alone knowing that she had told him that. 

He blinked twice before nodding. She smiled again and this time she went to her car. The wind was getting colder, and she wanted to go home, to eat something, to take a bath and rest. Above all, she wished he would follow her advice.


	7. Changing of the Seasons

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, I have to ask: HAVE YOU GUYS WATCHED THE MAZE RUNNER? Omg, if you didn't, go watch it right now!! Dylan, baby, so cute, so asdguafiob, I can't even... I sighed everytime he was on a close up (which happens a lot, thank God haha)
> 
> Anyway, thank you guys for the comments and kudos!! You are the best!!
> 
> Enjoy!

The last thing Stiles wanted to do was going home. He wished he could drive straight to the next day, and forget about that night. But he knew he couldn't avoid going home forever, so he drove under the speed limit and parked outside his house. I breathed three times, enjoying the feeling of air going in and out of his lungs, after unlocking the door and stepping inside. As he imagined, his aunt was freaking out. He had to invent a whole new story involving night animals and big rocks to explain all the stained blood on his face and hoodie, and she only let him go to his bedroom after he promise he would let her take care of her wound. 

After he closed my bedroom door, Stiles got undressed and went to the bathroom. He sighed when the warm water hit his shoulders, taking off all the tension and pain from his early exercises. After he finished showering, he got dressed and stood in front of the mirror. The cut on his forehead didn't look that ugly after being cleaned up. Actually, it was pretty small for so much blood, which made me kind of pissed. Why did this shitty cut had to be such a drama queen? 

He heard his aunt knocking at the door. He sat on his bed as she entered the room with her first aid kit. As a nurse, Mellissa kept enough medicine and dressings to take care of a whole football team, which made her first aid kit look like a small travel bag. 

After she finished the bandage and left the room, he laid on the bed and stared at the ceiling. It was early to sleep, but he didn't feel like doing anything else. Lying there in his dark and silent room, he let his mind pace. The events of this evening started playing on his head like a homemade movie, in which the camera was focused on the face of a beautiful girl. 

Stiles almost died. Since he started to have these attacks, years ago, he knew that there would be one day that he wouldn't be able to stop it in time. To him, it seemed inevitable. He didn't even know if there was any record of anyone who had died because of a panic attack, but still. He knew one day my demons would find a way to kill him. There was a moment this evening that he just closed his eyes and accepted the fact that he wasn't strong enough. He was going to die. But she was there. She talked to him, and she held him. Stiles could almost feel the warmth of her hands on his face, and her sweet voice echoing on his ears. 

He shook his head and turned around to burry my face on the pillow. Man, he was so fucked up. He tried my best to lock those memories at the bottom of his mind, but it wasn't working. He could still feel her arms around him. Stiles fell asleep hearing her words like a lullaby.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Lydia's way back home was as far as possible to be quiet. The moment his car was gone from her view, she knew that the last words she told him had no meaning. She knew she wouldn't be able to rest until she knew from him. She was even a little mad at herself for not having his phone number, so she could text him and demand news. 

When she got off her car, after parking in front of her house, she felt tiredness all over her body. Maybe it was the effect of the adrenaline from earlier leaving her systems, but she suddenly felt an urge to sleep. 

When she stepped inside her home, her mom waited for her with her arms crossed on her chest and an expression that meant trouble. 

"Hi mom," she greeted with a tired voice. 

"Don't 'hi, mom' me!" The woman shouted. "Were you planning on running to China?"

Lydia frowned. "You can't actually run to China. That would include lots of swimming, and you know I can't swim."

Carol narrowed her eyes with anger. "I'm serious, Lydia. Where did you go? I couldn't call you! I was worried sick!"

"Ok, ok, I'm sorry!" The girl raised her hands in surrender as she walked to the stairs. "I went to the reserve, and I forgot to bring my phone. Anyway, I wasn't planning to get lost..."

The moment she said that, she realized it was a mistake. Now her mom would freak out. She slowly turned around to face her, and the woman was standing with her arms crossed and one raised eyebrow. 

"You got lost?!" She shouted. "Do you realize you could have died?"

Lydia rolled her eyes. "Don't be overdra..."

"I'm being you mom. No more walks for you, lady."

The girl sighed, and knowing that having a discussion with her mom wouldn't lead anywhere, she just nodded and went to her room. Besides, she wasn't planning on going there so soon. 

She grabbed comfortable and clean clothes and went to her bathroom. One of the things Lydia hated the most was feeling dirty. She sighed when the warm water hit her body. While she washed her hair with her favorite shampoo, her mind wandered somewhere else. Stiles. He should be home by now, but was he ok? What if something happened, how would she know?

Think about something else, she told herself. Worrying wasn't going to help. 

After drying her body and hair, Lydia dressed her cotton clothes and tugged herself under the purple sheets of her bed. It was still too early to sleep, and even if she tried, she had too much in mind to find the peace she needed to fall asleep. So she grabbed the book she took from the library and started reading where she had left off. That was her most effective method to distract herself, and she hoped that it might help her to hold on until the next day. 

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

In the next morning, Stiles felt like crap. His body weighed a ton and he could barely keep his eyes open. It wasn't the fact that it was Monday (which was enough reason to make his day suck), but he had had the best night of sleep in months, maybe years. Now he was pretty sure people usually feel like crap after a good night of sleep. Yay. 

After getting ready, Stiles looked at the mirror, and almost didn't recognize himself. The half-circles under his eyes were practically gone, and that was something different on the color of skin, something more... alive? Stiles was so used compare his reflect to supernatural creatures that the person on the mirror looked like someone else. A human being, this time. 

A loud roar from his stomach remembered him of how hungry he was. Really hungry, his body craving something more than just an apple. Stiles grabbed his backpack and ran downstairs, almost sighing when he smelled food coming from the kitchen. When he got there, he found his apple waiting for him, but on a plate, because Melissa never gave up hope that he would eat something more. 

Stiles sat down and devoured his apple in ten seconds. When he lifted his eyes, his aunt was looking at him with a smile playing on her lips. 

"Somebody woke up hungry," she said with a full smile on her face. "I'm making pancakes and some eggs. Do you want..."

"Yes," he answered before she could finish. Actually, he didn't care if she was eating trash; he could eat anything. 

Melissa laughed at the uncommon attitude of her nephew. Twenty minutes later, Stiles leaned back on his chair, almost exploding. His aunt analyzed him with a curious expression. 

"Are you ok?" She asked him. 

"I'm great," he responded, not understanding the question. What, don't they say breakfast is the most important meal of the day? "Why?"

"Because that's one of the most terrifying things I've ever seen," she said and Stiles let out a short laugh. Melissa's eyes widened. "Oh my God, did you just laughed?"

Stiles rolled his eyes. "Whatever," he said, standing up and grabbing his backpack. "See you later."

He drove to school, murmuring the music playing on the radio, enjoying the cold breeze. Now that summer was gone, autumn was coming, and everyone could feel the changing of the seasons in the air. The leaves on the trees were starting to turn orange and fall...

Oh wait. What was he doing?

Was he actually thinking of the weather? What the hell? Stiles parked in front of the school and looked around, maybe to make sure that there wasn't a psychic near him that could hear him thinking of the weather. Because that would be weird. And awkward. He didn't do that. 

He shook his head and left his car. He was walking to the building when he heard someone calling his name. No, not someone. She was calling him. Stiles closed his eyes and breathed deeply. Why did he even recognize her voice? It was a perfect normal female voice; it could be any girl in the world. Why was he so sure it was her?

He was fooling himself. Of course he recognized it from the dreams he had. Those dreams. 

Lydia didn't think twice when she saw him. She called his name and ran to him, because she had to know if he was all right. The vision of his face when he turned to her, with only a bandage on his forehead, made her heart pound harder. He looked ok. 

"Hey," she said when she reached him. 

"Hi," he said, scratching the back of his neck. 

"So, are you ok?" She couldn't wait any longer to ask that. 

"I'm fine, I guess," he answered, shrugging. Lydia opened a small smile when she noticed that, for the first time, he wasn't being rude to her. He probably noticed that too, because he blinked twice. 

"I'm so... happy to hear that," she said, smiling. "I was so worried about you... I couldn't sleep, because I had to know if you were fine, and I don't have your number! "

"Really?" he asked. Strange. She didn't sleep because of me, and he could only and finally sleep because of her. 

"Yes!" Lydia opened her bag and grabbed a block of pink post-its and a pen. She wrote something briefly and gave it to him.

"What is it?"

"My phone number, of course."

Stiles' mind froze. Did she really want him to call her? Him? That was new. He didn't remember the last time he got on the exchange of phone number basis with a girl. When he didn't move, Lydia rolled her eyes and glued the pink paper on his shirt. 

"So, are you going to tell me what happened?" She asked. 

Stiles' eyes wandered to his shoes. There was no way he was going to talk to her about this. He kept everything related to the accident, not as a secret, but as the dark part of his life, hidden from everyone. All the things he'd been thought, the things he did... He wasn't willing to tell anyone. Especially the girl in front of him. 

"Wait, was it like a panic attack or something?" Lydia suddenly said. 

Stiles almost choke. "What?!"

"A panic attack!" she repeated, because everything made sense. Why hadn't she thought about that before? "It all happened after you saw all that blood, so that must be the reason, am I right? Please tell me I'm right."

Stiles wished it could be something as simple as fear of blood. He knew it wasn't the blood itself that turned on the attack, but the memories that the vision brought. It's not like he would have a panic attack while making a blood test. Lydia kept looking at him with expectant eyes, waiting for the answer. 

No way he was telling her the truth. 

"Yeah, you're right," he said, and she opened a smile that made his knees turn into jell. Seriously, man, he told himself, get your shit together. He was about to run away from her as fast as he could when the bell finally rang. 

"I better go," she said. "Detentions are not my thing." 

Stiles nodded, finding safer not to say anything. Lydia looked at him and bit her bottom, hesitating. There was one thing she really wanted to do, and she knew he would probably kill her or something like that. She tried not to think of the consequences when she stood on her tiptoes and gave him a quick kiss on his left cheek before turning around and walking to the building. 

Stiles' jaw fell and his eyes grew wide as two plates. Did she do that? Did she really? Why did he feel like he was going to combust? He watched her leave while everything inside him screamed mayday, mayday! and caught fire. 

Dude, what the...


	8. No Secrets

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! First of all, thank you all for the lovely comments!! So, this chapter is more like a filler, it's really short. I just thought it was important to write on chapter about Lydia and Allison friendship, because I miss it so much... Anyway, hope you guy like it!  
> Btw, follow me on tumblr: keep-yourwingscas

"You look happy."

Lydia, who didn't even notice that her best friend had sat down beside her, sent Allison a curious look. "Really?"

"Yeah, really," the brunette laughed. "What happened?"

"Nothing?" She shrugged. Of course something happened. She just gave the guy who appeared to hate her a kiss on the cheek, and then ran away, fearing for his reaction. Even if she would regret that later, she was happy she did what she did. The perks of being impulsive: you get to do things without thinking first, and be glad you did. 

"Well, you have a goofy smile on your face since you walked in," Allison pressed, raising her eyebrows. Lydia shrugged again and the brunette moaned. "Are you really going to make me guess?"

Lydia opened a playful smile and was ready to say yes when Stiles entered the room. Their eyes met for a second, which was enough to make her heart skip a beat. He looked different today. His skin wasn't so pale, and the circles under his eyes weren't so dark. Of course, his hair was messy as always. But Lydia thought that he never looked so pretty. 

The girl let out a small laugh when she noticed that the Post-it was still glued on his shirt. Stiles looked down and went quickly to his seat at the back of the classroom. 

Allison's eyes wandered from her friend to Stiles, then back to her friend so quickly that her orbs almost turned into a brown blur. When they finally landed on Lydia they made the strawberry blonde girl shrink, because Allison looked like a mom who caught her son with a hand in the cookie jar, or a cop ready to interrogate someone.

"You can start talking right now," she said, raising her dark eyebrows. 

Lydia gulped and shook her head, knowing that she wasn't going anywhere without telling Allison anything. Before she could think of what to say, the classroom door opened and Mr. Banner entered, looking as grumpy as always. She sent her best friend a glance, promising they would talk later. 

She spent the whole class dividing her focus in paying attention the class and figuring how exactly she was going to tell Allison what had happened. She wasn't even sure what had happened. 

Ok, she spent the whole night worryng about him. She could barely sleep, and every time she closed her green eyes, she would find endless scenarios of what could've been happening to Stiles in that exact moment. But that didn't mean anything... right? It's perfectly normal to worry about someone after what happened. 

So, she decided to tell everything. Nothing's better than the truth... right?

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She was still thinking like that until Allison started to freak out on her bed. 

"Oh. My. God. Oh my god!" The brunette's jaw was almost touching the floor. "I can't believe this."

Lydia sighed and shrugged. "I don't understand why are you freaking out like this."

"Neither do I," said Allison, making them both laugh. "Maybe it's because nobody knows a thing about that guy, and you just happen to meet him in the woods. I mean, God knows what he was doing there. He could be hiding a body or something." 

Lydia rolled her green eyes. "He wasn't hiding a body, Allison."

"And how do you know that?"

"I don't." Lydia walked to her queen sized bed and sat beside her friend, sighing. "He just doesn't look like a bad guy... He's actually nice when he's not being an ass."

Allison pondered with her head. "I couldn't agree, I've never had an actual conversation with him since he moved to Beacon Hills. I even think you're the first one who did it." 

"Really?" Lydia asked, frowning. She couldn't tell if that was sad or weird, but she knew it wasn't Allison's fault; Stiles didn't look like he was willing to socialize. "It can't be like this."

Allison raised both of her dark eyebrows and opened a smile to her friend. "Lydia Martin, are you liking him?"

The question caught the girl off guard. "What? No!" She nearly screamed. "Why do you think that?"

Allison shrugged, still smiling. "I don't know. You just look so... worried about him."

"That's because I am!" Lydia threw her arms into the air. "Last night was terrifying, Allison. I'm sure you would feel the same if you were in my place."

The brunette nodded and bit her lip, trying to get rid of the smile that was still there. "And... Do you want to be friends with him?"

Lydia sighed. "Yeah, maybe, but I don't know if he... Allison!" She exclaimed because her best friend was fully smiling at her again. The green eyed girl threw a pillow at her. 

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" The brunette said, laughing. 

"Yeah, right." Lydia rolled her eyes. "And before you said another stupid thing, let's go eat something. Worries make me hungry."

"Alright," Allison said, standing up, but she couldn't hold back one more tease. "Just make sure he's not a psycho before start liking him."

Lydia threw a pillow on her again. "Shut up!" She said, laughing this time.


	9. Rainy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!! Sorry I didn't post yesterday as usual, but it was a very busy day, and I went to a wedding at night so... Anyway, I hope you guys like this chapter as much as I did!!
> 
> Follow me on tumblr: keep-yourwingscas

After the third week, Lydia was sure he was avoiding her. 

In the first days, she thought he was only trying to avoid an awkward situation. She didn't know about him, but she didn't regret the kiss she gave him. Plus, they were not friends, so they didn't have any subjects to start a conversation, or texting. 

But now she was sure something was wrong. He wasn't just trying to avoid an awkward situation, but avoiding her. He literally turned his head whenever she looked at him, stayed as far as possible from her and ignored her in every way. Lydia was getting mad. She couldn't believe she actually thought she could be friends with this guy. 

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx 

Stiles couldn't get her out of his mind, and it was driving him crazy. 

He couldn't stop thinking of how beautiful and unique her hair was, and her big green eyes, glowing even in the dull light. How bright her smile was, and how soft her skin seemed to be. How full and sensual her lips were, and how badly he wanted to kiss them...

She was perfect. And Stiles hated it. 

It wasn't his nature - he wasn't used to simply like someone that way. This feeling was totally new, and he was scared of it. Terrified. All this years, being perfectly fine alone, and now this girl just enters his life like a fucking asteroid. 

Even if he didn't know, she was breaking his walls. 

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"I'm abandoned," Lydia whined. From the other side of the phone, Allison laughed. 

"What?"

"My best friend don't want to entertain me and my mom went on a date, and she told me not to wait for her awake." She sighed. "She's probably not going to sleep here. It kind of makes me uncomfortable to know that."

Allison laughed again. "She's better than us. At least she's got a man."

"You're alone because you want to. Isaac is into you and he is cute."

Lydia could almost see the brunette girl rolling her eyes. "He's not my type."

The strawberry blonde raised one eyebrow. "Not your type? Really?"

"Yeah, really. And let's not talk about it, or we're going to end up talking about your sociopathic hero. Do you want to talk about him?"

"Hm, no," she answered. She had shared with Allison all she felt about Stiles. She knew how much it bugged Lydia the way he acted. 

Lydia sighed again. "Are you sure you can't come here? This house is too big for a lonely soul."

"Don't be dramatic. I told you I'm going to visit my aunt Karen this weekend. I'm actually putting my things on the car right now," she said. "I'm sorry!"

"It's ok," she said. "See you on Monday, then."

"See you!"

Lydia hung up the phone and threw it across her queen sized bed. The silence in the house was overwhelming. She enjoyed spending time with herself, but that was too much. And the pouring rain outside didn't make things better. Lydia wished she had a dog, at least it wouldn't have an option but to stay with her. 

Suddenly, there was a loud noise coming from the street. Lydia stood on her bed, terrified. Was it a shot? The last thing she wanted was a murder on her street. But then she heard the sound of a car door being opened and slammed shut. Lydia tiptoed to her window. Down on the street, a guy kicked the wheel screaming multiples 'fucks' and 'shits'. 

Looking more closely, Lydia noticed the car was a blue Jeep. Her green eyes widened. Suddenly she recognized his voice, and even his hair. 

Stiles Stilinski. 

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Stiles had too much on his head even to get drunk. 

The bar was too crowded, full of people speaking too loud, drinking, smoking, flirting. When he went there, he was looking for a way out, but now he was regretting every minute of it. He had his own beer on one hand and a cigarette on the other, but he didn't feel as good as he planned. And the pouring rain outside wasn't exactly helping.

So he paid for the drinks he had and went to his car. Maybe a ride would help. He just didn't want to think too much; because he would end up thinking of her, and that was what he was trying to avoid. That strawberry blonde had already messed up his mind too much. 

Well, what he didn't think of was to have his car breaking in the middle of the street. 

"Oh, no no no..." he moaned when his dear blue Jeep started to slow down. With a loud noise that sounded like a shot, the car literally died. " FUCK!"

He left the car, anger boiling in his blood. That was too much. He started to feel the will to break something, hit something until there was nothing but tiredness on his system. 

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" He screamed while he kicked the wheel, getting soaked to his bones, not minding to wake the whole neighborhood. He stopped after a few minutes, noticing that this wasn't going to help. He walked to the front of the car and opened the hood, receiving a puff of steam on his face. 

While Stiles was outside, cursing and fanning the smoke, Lydia battled with herself if she should or shouldn't go help him. She should leave him there. For all the days he ignored her, made her mad and even hurt, he deserved to stay there in the cold. Didn't he want to be cold himself? This is stupid, she thought. Even if she thought he deserved that, she knew she couldn't do it. She pulled on her shoes, grabbed an umbrella and went outside. 

"Stiles!" she called from her porch. "Stiles!"

He didn't seem to listen to her voice over the sound of the rain. She walked towards him, careful not to slip and fall. 

"Stiles!" she called again when he she was only a few steps from him. Stiles jumped and hit his head on the hood of the car. 

"Shit," he moaned. 

"Oh my God, are you ok?" Lydia asked, concerned. 

Stiles' eyes grew wide. He recognized that voice. What was she doing there? Did he hit his head too hard? 

"Wh-What are you doing here?" He asked. 

"I live here." She pointed to the house behind her. He nodded, not knowing what to say. "Come on, let's get out of this rain."

His mouth hung open and he blinked twice. She was inviting him to her house. His mind seemed frozen, and he just stood there, staring at her. 

Lydia laughed at his expression and grabbed him by the arm. "Come on. You're soaked enough."

Stiles let her lead him inside like a child. He didn't feel the rain anymore; the only thing he could actually feel was her warm hand on his frozen arm. Her hand was soft, but her grip was tight. When they entered the house, she let go of his arm. 

"Wait here, I'm gonna get you a towel." That was what he did, until she came back and handed him a fluffy white towel. He started drying himself, only then noticing how cold he was. 

"Do you want coffee, or something? You're trembling," she asked when she came back. 

Stiles used the towel to dry his head as he arranged his thoughts quickly to form an answer. "Coffee is fine."

Lydia smiled softly. Suddenly, she grabbed his arm again, and he shivered, but not because of the cold. "Come on, kitchen's this way."

He sat down on one of the kitchen chairs and watched her. Five minutes ago he was thinking of ways to stay away from her, and now he was there, sitting on her kitchen, waiting for the coffee she was making for him. 

Lydia suddenly speaks, interrupting his thoughts. "I'm sorry I can't lend you any dry clothes."

"It's, hum, it's ok, I have them back in my car," he said, shrugging. God, he sounded so retarded. What the hell was happening?"

She smiled and he was pretty sure of what was happening. "Really? That's actually a good idea," she said. "You should go get them. The coffee will be ready in a few minutes."

Stiles nodded and left the kitchen without saying a word. He grabbed the umbrella Lydia had left by the door and went to his car, feeling very stupid. He opened the back of his Jeep and grabbed the black backpack he always kept in there. That was something he learned from his father, who always had with him a surviving kit wherever he went to. Stiles smiled lightly at memory and went back to the house. 

Back to the kitchen, Lydia was standing in the same place he had left her. She gave him a small smile when he walked in. "The bathroom is the second door on the left in the hallway."

Stiles nodded and followed her instructions. He entered the bathroom, locked the door behind him a looked at his reflect in the mirror. His face looked different, more alive. The dark half circles he was so used to have under his eyes were gone. 

He took off his wet clothes and dressed his dry ones. But he hesitated to leave the bathroom. The girl he couldn't get off his mind was waiting for him. He couldn't get an idea of what was going to happen, but he was sure of one thing. 

He had to leave this place. 

Lydia stared at the hot mug of coffee in her hands. That night had a hell of a turn out. In one minute she was on her room, weeping for her loneliness, and on the other she was sitting on her kitchen, waiting for the guy who had been avoiding her for weeks to come out of her bathroom and drink a hot mug of coffee with her. That was a lot to process. 

Stiles looked different. She didn't know why, or what changed, but he was acting different. Less aggressive, maybe. Lydia liked it. That was the Stiles she wanted to be friends with, not the asshole she met. She bit her lip. Being friends with him was something somehow important to her. She liked him. She knew that behind all those shields he kept, Stiles was a nice guy. She wanted to know him. 

Lydia jumped on her chair when she heard the bathroom door being open. Stiles came out wearing blue jeans and a plain red t-shirt. She stopped breathing for a few seconds because, God, he looked hot. He sat across the table from her and placed his long fingers around his own mug. 

They stayed like this for a few minutes, neither of them knowing what to say, until Lydia finally broke the silence. "So... How are you doing?"

Stiles shrugged. "Fine, I guess. You?"

"Fine, too." That was stupid. What kind of conversation was that? Lydia sighed and looked around, like she would find the perfect subject hanging on a wall or something. Stiles kept staring at the mug in his hands, eventually taking a sip. "Can I ask you one thing?" She blurted out. 

He lifted his eyes and frowned. "Yeah?"

Lydia took a deep breath. "Why have you been avoiding me?"

Stiles almost choke with his coffee. Shit. What was he going to say? 'Oh, I was, and still am, having strange feelings about you, and I really don't know what are they or how to deal with them so I just found it better to just keep you away from me.' No. He couldn't say that. Shit. "I haven't," he murmured. His voice didn't sound too convincing, because she rose her eyebrows. 

"Really? So you stop talking to me, and even looking at me, and that's not avoid?"

He took a deep breath and shrugged. "I didn't know we had something to talk about," he said. "It's not like we're friends or something."There it was. The tone he had used almost his whole life. Pretending he didn't care, pushing people away. He had practice on this, and Lydia believed. 

She dropped her gaze to the table. "Yeah, you're right." She sounded hurt, and Stiles wanted to punch himself for being such an asshole. Lydia felt something burning behind her green eyes, but she didn't allow herself to cry. She was strong. She wasn't going to show him how hurt she was.

They finished their coffee without saying a word. When Stiles' mug was finally empty, he got up. Lydia followed his moves, taking both of the mugs and placing them in the sink and started to wash them. 

"So, I'm ..."Stiles was thinking about a way to say goodbye when he remembered he couldn't go home with his car. Fuck. Maybe he could fix it, but it would take hours, and the rain was still pouring outside. He had to go home by foot. Great. Absolutely perfect. "Shit," he murmured, rubbing his eyes. 

"You can stay if you want to," Lydia said, drying her hands and turning to him. He stared at her with his mouth hanging a bit open. 

"Stay he-here?" He asked, blinking. 

Lydia shrugged, almost laughing at his expression. He was a dick, but she thought he looked cute. "Yeah, it's raining like hell and your car is broken. You can stay the night and do something tomorrow."

"Are you,hum, are you sure?" He asked, still processing her invitation. "I mean, I could just walk home..." 

She smiled softly. He had been an ass to her, and she was smiling to him. He swore that girl would drive him crazy. "It's ok, Stiles. You can take the couch. I'll bring you a pillow and blankets, just wait here."

Stiles watched as she left the kitchen and went to the stairs. His eyes wandered to her hips, swinging right and left. Shit. She was definitely going to drive him crazy.


	10. Waffles and Grease

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone, here's a fresh chapter for you! Hope you like it!

Lydia laid wide awake, staring at her ceiling, processing the fact that Stiles Stilinski was just downstairs sleeping on her couch. 

She looked at the clock on her nighstand: it was almost 10 a.m. He should be awake right now. Lydia left her bed and stand in front of her full body mirror. She looked like... someone who just woke up. She fixed her hair, pulling it into a messy bun. About her clothes... she shrugged. Her black shorts and her white oversized shirt weren't that bad. She took a deep breath and left her room. 

There was absolutely no sound in the house. Lydia was grateful that her mom didn't decide to show up in the middle of the night, even thought she was sure her mom wouldn't. She was probably going home by night. Lydia tiptoed to the living room, in case Stiles was still asleep. Which he was. Lying on his stomach, one hand touching the floor, one foot hanging out of the couch. His lips were parted and his hair was simply everywhere on the top of his head. He snored lightly. 

Lydia bit her bottom lip to hide the grin that appeared on her face. He looked so peaceful, and cute. She wanted to take a picture, and compare this asleep dork to the dick he usually was.  
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Stiles woke up with the smell of waffles. He slowly opened his eyes and... wait, that wasn't his room. Then realization hit him like a slap and he sat straight on the couch 

Lydia's house, Lydia's couch, Lydia's pillow... Stiles shook his head. Even thought hours ago he had plans to avoid that girl until the end of times, there he was, sleeping on her couch. How ironic life could be?

The smell caught his attention again and his stomach roared. Was she really making him breakfast? No, no. She had to eat too, of course she wasn't making it for him... Stiles got up and walked to the kitchen. 

"Hey, morning sunshine!" Lydia greeted him with a smile when he walked in. 

"Morning," he said back, digging his hands on his jeans' pockets, standing awkwardly. 

"So..." she said, taking off the yellow kettle she was using and gesturing to the table. "I made breakfast."

Stiles didn't look at the table. His eyes were glued on the creature in front of him. She was wearing brief black shorts, exposing her clear legs. Plus the oversized shirt and her light orange hair pulled into a but, Stiles could swear he had never seen someone so... beautiful. 

"Stiles?"

"Yeah, breakfast, ok," he said and quickly sat on the chair. 

Lydia laughed shortly and sat in front of him. "I didn't know what do you usually eat for breakfast, so..." She was smiling before she finished her sentence, because Stiles had already buried his fork on his waffles and shoved it into his mouth. 

She laughed and followed his moves. "Oh my God, that's the best waffle I've ever eaten."

"Shit, me too," he said with his mouth completely full. The guy barely stopped for a breath. He simply shoved everything eatable in his mouth. 

"Easy there, tiger," she said, playfully. 

"Sorry," he said, cleaning his mouth with a napkin. "You cook better than my aunt."

Lydia laughed and blushed. "Thanks. Breakfast is my speciality."

Stiles stared at the blush on her cheeks. She was unbelievable. He had been so rude to her, yet there she was, smiling and blushing at him. She was so beautiful that hurt. 

"What?" She suddenly asked. 

"What? Nothing," he hurried to say, because he was probably staring at her like a creep. "I-hum... I gotta go check my jeep."

"Does that happen too often? I mean, your jeep stop working and all."

"No." She raised her eyebrows. "Ok, someti- Yes, it happens all the time."

"Don't you have an insurance?" She asked, getting up and bringing some things from the table with her. 

"Hum, no."

"And what do you do when it breaks?"

He shrugged. "I fix it. I know a few things, most of them I learned by getting my hands dirty," he explained when Lydia turned to him. 

"That's nice." She smiled softly. 

"Yeah..." He got up. "Do you want help to, hum..."

"No, it's ok," she said, opening the dishwasher. 

Stiles nodded and left the kitchen. If he fixed his car quickly, he could finally leave that place, and maybe he could go on with his plan. 

It was incredibly sunny outside. After the all the rain of the night before, he imagined he would find a gray sky, but it was completely blue, with no clouds. He walked to his beloved jeep, taking off his hoodie. He hadn't even started working and he was already sweating. He threw the hoodie inside the car and walked to the front, opening the hood. 

"Ok babe," he murmured to himself. "It's you and me now."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Do you want help?" Lydia asked, walking in his direction. Stiles was fixing his car for almost an hour, so she thought he might need a hand. 

"Yeah, hand me that thing, please," he said without lifting his head. 

Lydia frowned. "What thing?"

"That thing..." He made some gestures with his hand, which Lydia thought was not helping at all. "It's in the trunk," he said, tossing her the keys.

She nodded and walked to the back of the car. She opened the trunk and found the largest collection of random things she had ever seen. There was ropes, a pack of canned beans, noodles, a knife, a huge flashlight and even an inflatable lifeboat. 

"There's, hum, a lot of things here," she said. 

"The pointy thing, with a yellow cable."

Lydia searched for it, and the only thing that matched the description was a screwdriver. She grabbed it and went back to where he was. "Is that it?"

Stiles lifted his head, and she laughed. His cheeks and forehead were covered with grease. He frowned as she kept laughing at him. 

Lydia tried to make a straight face when she spoke. "You have a little bit of, hum, grease here." She gestured to her own cheek. 

Stiles made a confused face. "What..." He touched his cheek and then looked at his dirty fingers. "Shit!" 

He started rubbing his face to clean the grease up, but his hands were already dirty, and he turned out to have a completely black face. Lydia bent down and hugged herself, her stomach aching from the laughter. 

"What? Stop laughing, it's not funny... Stop laughing!" he protested. 

"Sorry!" She took a deep breath to calm her laugh and stood straight. 

"Are you done?"

She took another deep breath. "Yeah, I guess." 

"Good." Suddenly, he took the three steps that were between them and rubbed his dirty hands on her face. 

"Fuck off!" she screamed, struggling and laughing. He finally let go of her, laughing too. She rubbed her fingers on her cheek and found their tips covered with grease. "Damn it, Stiles!"

He was still laughing at her, his face red and eyes full of tears. "Yeah, sorry about that," he mocked her. 

Lydia touched her hair. "Shit, this will never come out."

Stiles whipped the tears and took a deep breath, still smiling widely. "In my defense, you still look lovely..."

His face turned red again, this time not because of the burst of laughter. Lydia's jaw dropped. She couldn't believe he had just said that, and by the way Stiles looked, he didn't neither. 

Lydia couldn't help the smile to crack on her full lips. "You should smile more," she said with a soft voice. She had never seen Stiles giving her a real smile, not a smirk. It made him look even more handsome. "Now I'm gonna try to get this thing out of my hair. And by the way, if it doesn't, you're dead." 

She smiled again and turned back to the house. Stiles stood there, paralyzed. He didn't mean to say that. He didn't... Shit, he said that. He closed his eyes, mentally slapping himself. Stupid, stupid, stupid...

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"He is still there?" Allison asked on the phone with an amused tone. 

"Yup," Lydia answered, spying the guy from her room's window. Stiles was trying to fix that car for almost an hour now. 

She heard Allison's small laugh on her ear. "I still can't believe he slept there. On your couch."

"I'll pretend I didn't hear the irony in your voice," she said. "But yeah, that was a surpri- oh my God!"

"What?" Allison asked. "Lydia, what? What happened?"

"Oh my God, he is... He is taking off his shirt! He is... Holy shit..."

Lydia blinked, her jaw dropped as she kept her green eyes glued on the guy outside her house. She would never, ever, imagine what all those hoodies kept hidden. He was perfect. He wasn't all six pack, and strong arms, the kind of guy you could find on the magazine covers, with their torsos covered with body oil. Stiles had a thin yet muscular build, and the lean muscles of his arms made Lydia wonder how would it be to be held by them...

"Lydia?" Allison's voice called. 

"Yes?" Lydia responded, snapping out of her reveries. 

"Tell me what you see!"

"Well..." The girl started to think about a non-embarrassing way to describe shirtless Stiles when she spotted a known car coming in the driveway. Lydia froze. She had completely forgotten she still lived with her mom. "Shit!"

"What? Does he have a tattoo of something?" Allison asked. 

"No! My mom is here! I'll call you later." She hung up the phone, threw it on her bed and ran downstairs. She used all her strength to not even look to his back muscles, or to the hem of his boxers as she walked on the other car's direction. She didn't want him to catch her staring or drooling. 

"Mom! Hi!" she greeted her mom with a low voice when she left her car, because Stiles hadn't noticed her yet. 

"Hey, dear," the older woman greeted back, kissing her daughter on the forehead. "Whose car is this?"

She turned around to the blue jeep, wondering why her mom didn't say anything about the shirtless guy on her driveway. Then she noticed that he wasn't visible from where they were standing. Good, at least she would have time to explain before her mom freaked out. "It's... ahn..."

Suddenly, they heard the sound of the car behind them turning on, making them both jump. 

"Fuck, yes!" Stiles yelled from inside the car. He heard a gasp. When he turned to his side, he saw Lydia and an older woman through the car window. Shit. 

Natalie took a deep breath. "Lydia, who is that?" Her mom asked with a hint of anger in her voice. 

"This is, hum, this is my.... my friend, Stiles," she said. Friend. That sounded about right. 

Her mom raised her eyebrows. "Stiles, hun?" There wasn't anger in her voice anymore, but there was curiosity, even excitement. She turned to Stiles, who had left the car and now stood awkwardly, and gave him a smile. She must have checked him out, because he hurried to dress the shirt that was hanging on his shoulders and give a small wave. 

"It's a pleasure to finally meet you," she said. Lydia blushed. She was making it sound like she had spoken a lot about him, which was a lie, because she had only talked about him once. 

Stiles' face was red too. "Hum, thanks... I guess."

Natalie turned to her daughter. "Why don't you invite your friend to get in and drink something?"

"Um, he... well..." Lydia looked at Stiles, seeking for help. No way she was telling her mom he had slept there... at least not now. Or not ever. 

"Actually, I was just leaving..."

"Yeah, he had a problem with his car and..."

"I fixed it, so... Yeah, I'm gonna leave now," he said. "Well, thanks for lending me you cou... sidewalk! I, hum, I guess I'll see you on Monday?"

Lydia nodded. "Yes, of course."

"Ok then. Bye." He waved shortly and entered his car. Mother and daughter waved when the blue jeep left the driveway. As soon as the car was gone from their view, Natalie turned to Lydia. 

"Will you explain what happened here?"

"Nothing... His car just broke here." She shrugged. 

"So, Mr. Cute Detention Guy spent the whole morning fixing his car in front of our house, with nothing covering his muscles and you're telling me that nothing happened?" She arched her eyebrows. 

Lydia nodded and started walking to the house. "Yup."

Natalie laughed almost incredibly. "If you hadn't come from me, I would wonder if you're really my daughter."

The girl rolled her green eyes. "Jesus, mom. I swear you and Allison would become best friends in ten minutes."

"If Allison also notices the chemistry between you two, then I think we may start a club."

"Mooom..."


	11. Stop Hiding

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! Saturday, finally! Hope you guys like it :)
> 
> Let's talk! Follow me on tumblr: keep-yourwingscas
> 
> p.s.: HAPPY HALLOWEEN!!

_"This is, hum, this is my.... my friend, Stiles..."_

Lydia's words kept playing in Stiles' head. Friend. Ok. Considering that he was ready to push her away and avoid the strange feeling he had towards her to grow any weirder, crashing on her couch, eating breakfast with her and becoming friends was a hell of a change of plans.

He couldn't explain the way he felt when she told her mother he was her friend. He felt... happy. This feeling came from some part of him, that part that wasn't completely focused on not letting her in, the part that was already filled with her. Whatever this part was, it was spreading. Lydia was getting under his skin.

Suddenly, the jeep started to slow down again. Good this he was only two blocks away from home. He managed to park it on the sidewalk. He could come and fix it later. After working hours under the sun, he could use a cold shower and a few hours of tv. He left his car and walked to his house, turning his keys on his fingers. When he opened the front door, he was hit by a a well-known laugh. Stiles followed the sound, his heart already pounding harder. When he got to the kitchen and saw the owner of the laughter, he felt a heavy weight that he didn't even know was there being carried away from his shoulders.

"Scott?" He asked, almost not believing he was there.

"Hey, Stiles!" The tall olive-skinned guy hurried to his younger brother with his arms open. Stiles didn't hesitate to hug him back. Scott gave him small taps on the back. "I missed you, buddy."

"Wha-What are you doing here?" He asked when they broke apart. "You didn't drop out of college, did you?"

Scott shrugged. "I didn't have plans for the weekend, so I decided to make a small surprise."

"Right," Melissa said, stopping beside her son, who placed one arm around her shoulders. "You're probably just sick of college food."

"Well, that's not completely wrong."

The three of them laughed. Stiles couldn't believe how much he had missed Scott. They were actually cousins, but were raised as brothers. After the accident that took his parents lives, Scott was the one that was always there when he fell apart, convincing him not to give up when he wanted to. He had left for college two years ago, and visited every time he could.

"Dude, are you wearing make up?" Scott asked, remembering Stiles how bad he must be looking.

"No, I..." He sighed. "I'm just gonna take a shower."

Stiles went upstairs, grabbed some clean clothes from his drawer and locked himself on the bathroom. By his reflect in the mirror, he did look awful. He took off his dirty clothes and entered the shower, shivering with pleasure when the cold water hit his back.

After showering, he left the bathroom and found Scott lying on his bed. "You know that you're not sleeping there, right?" He said.

Scott sent him a fake resentful look. "But I came all the way from college..."

"I don't care if you came all the way from the moon. The bed is mine."

The older boy laughed and sat down. "So... mom told me you didn't sleep here last night," he said.

Shit.

"She did?" Stiles asked, trying to sound casual, but failing. Scott noticed his failed attempt to lie. A wide smile slowly appeared on his lips.

"That's my boy!"

"Wait, it's not what you're thinking..."

"So you didn't spend your night on some girl's house?"

"Well, yes, but I didn't..."

"So you _did_ spend your night in a girl's house."

"Yes, but we didn't..."

"Not even a bit?"

"We didn't have sex!" Stiles nearly shouted. "God, Scott, you gossip like an old lady."

"Ok, let me get this straight," he said. "You're telling me that you spent your night at a girl's house and _nothing_ happened?

"Is that how college is like?"

"Don't avoid my question."

"Yes, I spent the night there, and yes, nothing happened." At least not something he would tell anyone. "I slept on the couch."

Scott frowned. "Then what the fuck were you doing there? Your bed wasn't comfortable enough?"

Stiles sighed. "My car broke in front of her house, and it was raining too much to come walking, so I crashed on her couch and fixed my car today."

"Is she hot?"

"She's perfect," Stiles answered with no hesitation. Flashbacks started to pop into his mind. Images of her bright smile, her glowing eyes... wait. When he realized what he was -unconsciously - doing, he shook his head. "Wait, I didn't mean to say..."

"Stiles," Scott interrupted him, looking at him with an awe. "You're my hero."

He frowned, caught by surprise. "What?"

"I mean, you spend the night with the girl you like and you swear that nothing happened." He got up and placed his hand on Stiles' shoulder. "I envy your strength."

"Oh my god," he said, rubbing his eyes. He was getting really tired of that awkward conversation. "We didn't spend the night together. I told you, I slept on the couch."

Scott looked at him with a mix of proud and curiosity in his eyes. "You didn't deny it."

"What?"

"You didn't deny it," he repeated, now smiling. "You like her!"

Stiles sighed. Was he going to deny it? He knew it was pointless. Scott was his brother, he couldn't lie to him. He knew him too well. The thing was that Stiles didn't even know if he really liked her. Of course, he always caught himself thinking about her, and he felt so good around her, and she was the prettiest girl...

Who was he trying to fool? He had a crush on her. A massive one, a terrible one, a crush he knew it would probably never vanish, because he had never, ever felt this way about anyone.

He was so fucked up.

"What is her name?" Scott asked, changing his mood from best friend to big brother, letting go of all the amusement that was on his voice before.

"It's Lydia..."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"I like him!" The strawberry blonde shouted, throwing her arms up.

"Hun?" Allison asked, raising both of her eyebrows, clearly not understanding the sudden confession.

"That's it. Yeah, that's it," she said, more to herself than to the girl sitting on her bed, while she paced around her room. "Oh my God, oh my God..."

"Lydia!" The brunette called, making the girl stop. "Can you make more sense, please?"

"It's Stiles," she said, taking a deep breath, with her voice almost sounding desperate. "I can't stop thinking about him, Ally!"

"So... You like... like? Like... you actually _like_ him?"

"This word is starting to sound very weird."

"Lydia."

She sighed and threw herself on the bed. Since he left Saturday morning, she couldn't focus on anything else. She tried to study, tried to clean her room, but she just couldn't stop thinking of him. His messy hair, his beautiful amber eyes, his cute nose, his extremely kissable lips, his muscles... She had read enough romances. She was definitely liking him, with no way back.

"Yeah," she murmured, facing the ceiling

"Wow," Allison said, blinking. "That's new."

"Yeah," Lydia repeated.

"I mean, yesterday you told me that he was avoiding you, and called him some bad words. I was getting pretty sure you hated him."

"I _was_ mad at him, but yesterday... I don't know, It was like he wasn't trying so hard to be a dick. He's actually nice, and funny, and..."

"Hot?"

" _And_ hot." Lydia sighed. "I'm so screwed."

Allison laughed lightly and shook her head. "Don't say that, it's not always that bad to like someone."

She shifted her position on the bed so she could lay her head on her pillow. "Ally, I'm happy to know he's not a twenty-four-seven douchebag, and we kind of got along yesterday... but I don't think he would ever like me the way I think I like him now." Lydia bit her lip. "And knowing that makes me sad."

Allison turned around and caressed her best friend's hair gently. "You don't have to be sad. Stiles may not be a complete douchebag, but he will be an idiot if he doesn't notice the wonderful girl you are."

Lydia smiled softly. "Thanks Ally."

The brunette smiled back. "You're welcome." She gives her friend small taps on her head. "Now come on, let's make some... Brigadeiro!"

"What's that?"

"It's a sweet. I've learned the recipe and I want to try." Lydia didn't move from the bed, so she started pulling her friend by the arm. "Come on! Let's eat junk food and watch some comedies! I don't want to see you down on a Sunday afternoon."

"Ok, ok!" The strawberry blonde gave up, laughing.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

It felt totally strange and wrong to not be driving his jeep to school. Stiles and Scott had spent their whole Saturday trying to fix the damn car, until they figured it would be easier to just leave it at the mechanic. Stiles hated the idea of leaving his beloved car on a stranger's hand.

"Dude, it's just a car," Scott said while driving his mother's car to Beacon Hills High School.

"It's not just a car, it's my car! And my babe come home with one single scratch, I swear to God..."

"Did you just call you car babe?" Scott asked, raising one eyebrow. "Seriously."

"Shut up."

  
"What's with the backpack?" Allison asked, gesturing to the black backpack on her best friend's hand.

Lydia shrugged. It wasn't until the night before when she noticed that Stiles had left his backpack on her house. "It's Stiles'. Have you seen him?"

"No... Wait, there he is!" Allison pointed to something behind Lydia. She turned around and spotted Stiles leaving a black car parked by the sidewalk. For a brief moment, she wondered if he couldn't fix his jeep. "And who is that?"

Allison was clearly referring to the boy behind the steering wheel. Lydia looked at her friend, who had a dreamy expression on her face. She laughed and pushed her by the arm. "Come on, let's talk to them."

"What?"

"Stiles!" she called.

Stiles froze. He didn't have to turn around to know who was calling him. Scott lifted his eyebrows, finding weird the boy's sudden reaction.

"What?" Then he looked out the car window, and spotted two girls walking in their direction. "Oh." That's all he said before leaving the car.

"What are you doing?" Stiles asked.

"I just want to meet my future sister-in-law."

"Scott..."

"Now I understand why you like her so much." He whistled shortly. "Man, she's gorgeous."

"I know." Stiles sighed.

"Actually, I'm feeling kind of weird right now?"

He furrowed his brow. "What?"

Scott shrugged. "I don't know. I think I'm having a heart attack or something. She's just... beautiful. Is it bad?"

"What the fuck, Scott?!" Stiles felt anger suddenly boiling in his blood, what caught him off guard. No, he wasn't angry... He was jealous. Wow. That was new.

"I'm sorry! I just..."

"Shut up, act like you're not freaking out."

"You are freaking out too."

"Yeah, and I also want to punch you in your face. Shut up."

"Hey!" Lydia greeted them when she approached.

"Hey..." Scott answered with a distant voice. Stiles' eyes shot daggers at him, but Scott wasn't even looking at Lydia. His eyes were locked with Allison's. Relief hit him so hard he almost laughed. "I'm Scott." He said as he extended his hand to her.

"Allison," she said with a smile, taking his hand and shaking it lightly. Scott's eyes widened and he looked at Stiles with a small relieved smile. He shrugged.

"So you must be Lydia, right?" Scott said, offering his hand to the strawberry blonde girl. "Stiles talked about you."

Stiles' face burned red while he tried to look anywhere but the girl in front of him. Lydia's face was red as well, but he had a full smile on her lips, and Stiles just couldn't not look at it.

"He did?" She asked, shaking his hands lazily. She looked at Stiles, who gave her an awkward smile. For a moment, their eyes met, and none of them could look away. They stood like that, staring at each other, until Scott coughed.

"So, I... You, hum, you forgot this at my house." Lydia handed him the backpack he didn't notice she was carrying. Stiles grabbed it and threw it in the car.

"Thanks," he said. The four of them were about to go through another awkward moment when the bell finally rang, announcing the start of the classes. "So, we should..."

"Yeah, ok. Allison, let's... Allison!" She called again, because she and Scott seemed to be trapped in their own bubble. Was that how she and Stiles looked?

"Will I see you again?" Scott asked. Allison blushed and laughed. She grabbed a pen from her bag and wrote something briefly on his arm.

"We'll see," she said.

"Right." He smiled.

"Right." She smiled and she took some steps back, and waved. "Bye."

"Bye..." he waved back, and watched her walk away.

"That was disgusting," Stiles commented.

"Shut up, Loverboy." 


	12. Texting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! This is a very short chapter, and it's a bit different, I'm not sure if you are goint to like it :/ But it's a pretty important chapter. Anyway, hope you guys like it :)
> 
> p.s.: I'm making a playlist for this fic, so if you guys have any suggestions, feel free to say it! I will post it on my tumblr: keep-yourwingscas.

It was the fourth time that afternoon that Lydia caught Allison texting instead of listening to her.

"Allison!" Lydia called. The brunette didn't even lift her eyes, so Lydia snapped her fingers in front of her face. "Allison!"

"What?" Allison asked as she jumped in surprise.

"Can't you stop texting Scott for one hour?" She asked, annoyed. "We're in the middle of something important here."

Lydia gestured to the books scattered around her bed. The exams were coming soon, and they decided to study together, so they could help each other. The problem was that since Allison met Scott, she couldn't talk about anything else.

"Sorry!" Allison typed a few more words, then she locked her phone and threw it across the bed. "Promise it won't happen again."

The phone soon started buzzing. Allison stared at it with a distressed look, almost sweating. Lydia rolled her eyes and tossed the phone back to her friend, who smiled like a kid who won a candy.

"So, are you guys having a thing or what?" She asked. Allison lifted her eyes and frowned. "You know, considering that you only met once."

The brunette sighed dreamly and put her phone down. "I don't know. I mean, I know we only met once, but I feel like I know him my whole life." She looked at her best friend. "Is it possible?"

Lydia shrugged. "Maybe. I just think you should try other things... like a phone call."

"You're right." Allison nodded, and suddenly opened a bright smile. "Picture that: Me, Scott, you and Stiles on a double date!"

Lydia's eyes went wide. "Are you serious?"

"Yes!" She answered.

"But Allison, we're not even... You know we're not..." Lydia took a deep breath. That was madness. She and Stiles... on a date? They couldn't even have a conversation without ending up on an awkward silence. Lydia imagined how the date would go: the two of them, sitting in a fancy restaurant, trying to look anywhere but the person in front of them. Awkward. Stupid.

"Come on, Lyds," Allison said. "Don't you want to know him better? Or are you still afraid that he still might be a psychopath?"

"He's not a psychopath, and yes, of course I would like to know him better, but Ally..." Lydia rubbed her eyes. "I don't know if he wants to know me better."

Allison raised her eyebrows. "And why wouldn't he?" She asked. Before Lydia could say anything, the brunette raised her hand to interrupt her and started typing on her phone. After a few seconds, she grabbed one sheet of paper and a pen on the bed and wrote something briefly. "Here," she said, giving it to Lydia.

Lydia looked at what she had written. "Is that..."

"Stiles' number."

Lydia stared at the numbers on the paper, nervousness running through her veins. "What should I do?"

Allison raised her phone and wiggled it. "Text him?"

"Allison, I can't..."

"Yes, you can, and you will." She got up and started gathering her things. "Now I'll go home, and you," she touched Lydia's nose, "are going to do this."

She smiled, kissed her friend on the cheek, grabbed her things and left. Lydia didn't move from her spot on her bed. Her hands were sweaty. Allison could be right. She could do this. She would text him, and she wouldn't wait for an answer. Right. She could do this. Lydia grabbed her phone and saved his number.

Only then the problem clicked. What was she going to send him?

'Hey Stiles'? Nah. Maybe a simple 'Hi'. No, that would be a terrible way to start a conversation. 'What's up?'. Hell no. Maybe something formal. 'Hello Stiles, how are you?' Jesus, that was harder than her exams.

You're thinking too much, she told herself. Just be cool. If he doesn't answer, fuck it.

So she typed her message and sent it before she could think twice.

"There goes nothing," she said, sighing.

Stiles' phone rang, waking him up. He had to dig up his phone from the books on his desk. His neck ached because of the position he had fallen asleep, with his head on the book. He rubbed his eyes and blinked to read the name on the bright screen.

Lydia.

His eyes went wide and fell from his chair. Shit. Stiles quickly sat back up and he stared at the phone screen, blinking to make sure he wasn't dreaming. Her name was still there. Holy shit. He touched the screen to read the message.

L: Studying hard?

Stiles stared at those two words for minutes, maybe hours. That was happening. A smile appeared on his lips. He didn't care if he looked stupid smiling like that because of a message. He just didn't.

S: Im bored. You?

Lydia jumped when her phone buzzed. Her heart pounded harder when she read his name on the screen. She smiled widly, and laughed lightely when she read the message.

L: Really?

S: Hell yes.

S: These books are an insult to my intelligence.

L: Hahaha.

L: I didnt know you were a genius.

S: Oh yes, I am

L: I guess that explains the hair.

S: What??? Whats wrong with my hair?

L: Its just a little bit... high.

S: Ah yes.

S: It does make it easier to make contact to my comanders.

L: You mean ETs?

S: Fuck yes. Mothership and shit.

L: Right.

L: I was just going to say that almost all genius have a messy hair.

S: ... That works too.

L: Yeah ok

S: But your hair is not messy.

L: And?

S: You are the real genius here, Lydia.

L: I am?

L: And how do you know that?

S: Everybody know that.

L: Right.

L: Should I try a new hairstyle then?

S: Nah.

S: I like your hair.

Lydia' smile, who had been on her face during the whole conversation, grew wider.

L: Thank you.

L: I like yours too.

S: Thanks.

S: Its all part of my...

L: Oh god

S: Style...

L: Thay was a terrible joke, Stiles.

S: No it wasnt.

L: Is that even your real name?

S: Nop.

S: You dont want to know my real name.

L: Oh yes I do.

S: Shame, because I'm not telling.

L: Stiiiiiles.

S: No fucking way.

S: Stiles is all you gonna get.

L: Whatever.

L: I like Stiles.

Lydia mentally slapped herself as soon as she wrote that. Did she just opene her heart to him? Stupid! She really didn't mean to say that. Hopefully he would read it, and understand she was just talking about his name. Meanwhile, Stiles stared at the message on his phone. She just said she liked his name, nothing more. Nothing that should make him feel the way he was while he thought about what to type, with his heart pounding harder.

 _Say something, you idiot!_ , he told himself. He opened an almost malicious smile. _You got nothing to lose._

S: I like Lydia too.

S: A pretty name for a pretty girl.

Lydia's cheeks burned red. _Oh. My. God_ , she told herself. _Is he flirting with me?_ No, no. She had flirted first. Accidentally, but still. Now the innocent conversation they were having turned into a... flirting game? Lydia smiled and bit her bottom lip. She could do this.

L: You think Im pretty?

S: Hell yes.

L: Awe, thank you.

L: Im blushing now

L: Btw, I think youre pretty too.

S: And you like my name.

L: And I like your name.

S: Just my name?

Stiles was feeling oddly comfortable with the direction their conversation was taking. He should feel extremely awkward with it, and do his best to finish it, but he just didn't. It made him very satisfied with himself to finally tell her she was pretty, which was something that he wouldn't have the guts to say in person. He was glad she knew it. Stiles imagined her blushing, her cheeks turning into a light shade of red. He wondered if she was biting her lip, thinking about what to type. For a second, he was afraid that he had gone too far, but then the message came.

L: Of course not.

L: Youre a cool guy, Stiles.

S: I know.

L: So humble.

S: Just one of my many qualities.

L: Youre a jerk.

S: You cant call me this. You just said Im cool!

L: That was before.

L: Youre not cool anymore.

S: You cant do this. You cant un-cool me.

L: This word doesnt even exist, idiot.

S: I dont care. Im cool. Period.

L: Jerk.

S: Cool.

L: I will leave you taking to yourself.

S: Dont.

S: Ok sorry.

L: No, seriously Stiles. Its almost midnight.

S: So what?

L: We have class tomorrow.

S: Ah.

S: See you tomorrow then?

Lydia smiled at the thought that he really wanted to see her tomorrow. It was a foolish thing, since they studied at the same school, but still.

L: Sure.

L: Good night, Stiles.

S: Good night, Lydia. 


	13. Better Than Daisies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heeey!! Hope you guys like it!!
> 
> p.s.: do I have any Supernatural fans here? Have you guys watched ep 200?

Lydia couldn't stop thinking that it felt like she was getting ready for her first day at school again as she finished her make up. She remembered the fear stationed on her stomach that day, filling it with angry butterflies. That was the same feeling she had today, but instead of fearful, she was anxious.

She was so excited about this day that she had even dreamed about it. In her dream, Stiles surprised her with daisies. The bouquet was huge, so big that she almost couldn't hold it in her arms. Everything was well until the daisies suddenly turned into a carnivorous plant trying to eat her face, while Stiles sat on the floor and started eating peanut butter directly from the jar, like a baby

Lydia was hanging on the daisies.

She knew it was stupid - Stiles didn't look like the kind of guy who gives flowers. She never really hoped he would do that. Lydia just wanted something to happen. Anything would be better than just go back to ignore each other.

Lydia checked herself out one more time before grabbing her things and heading out of her room. Her mom was having breakfast downstairs. She smiled when her daughter sat in front of her.

"Morning, mom," she said, serving herself some orange juice.

"Morning," her mom answered. "You look happy today."

Lydia raised her eyebrows, but didn't look at her mom in the eyes. "I do?"

"Yes, you do." Lydia just shrugged and drank her juice as her mom watched her. Her mom was not stupid. She was sure her mom already knew what was all that about. "Lydia," she pressed.

"Ok, mom, ok!" She gave up. She knew she was going to tell her mom sooner or later. Carol opened a victorious smile. "You remember Stiles, right?"

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

 _This is stupid, you are stupid, this whole situation is absurdly stupid,_  Stiles kept telling himself.

Stiles had gotten to school earlier than never, just to sit on his car and watch the movement in the Beacon Hills High School. It was boring, he knew, but the idea of leaving the car freaked him out. He knew that when he did, he would have to see Lydia, and they would have to talk, and he was simply terrified.

He was usually good with girls, but he had never really liked the girls he hit on. They were just fun, a one time thing. So this time was different. He had actual feelings towards Lydia. Strong feelings. And that screwed everything up.

When the bell rang, he watched all the students enter the building. After ten minutes, there was no one outside. _This is stupid_ , he repeated for the hundredth time. _Man up and leave this fucking car._

Stiles grabbed his backpack and jumped out of his car before he could chance his mind. The hallways were empty as he walked to his classroom. The class had already started when he got there, so he just murmured an apology and went to sit at the back. He spotted a strawberry blonde head in the front row and his heart pounded harder. She was there. Lydia was there. Shit, shit!

"Is it anything wrong, Stilinski?" The teacher, a thousand years old man that looked like a modern version of Santa Clause asked. "You seem very interested on Ms. Martin's head."

Stiles' face burned red as the whole classroom turned to him. Lydia did too, but instead of just staring, she opened a bright smile, making his heart skip about twenty beats. He sucked the air through his teeth and looked to the old man.

"Everything's fine, Mr. Parker," he said, ignoring all the stares. "I was just thinking about getting a new haircut."

Some people laughed, which made the old man squint his eyes. "Very funny, Mr. Stilinski. While we wait for your hair to grow like Ms. Martin's here, please pay attention to me."

He turned around and went back to his class, followed by the rest of the students. The only person that kept looking at him was Lydia. He had an amused expression, a smile still on her lips. Almost <span class="correction alternate">unconsciously</span>, his lips curled into a small smile. Her smile grew wider, and his chest ached before so much beauty.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Since the exams were coming soon, most of the students spent their time in the classrooms or in the library. Stiles was one of them, mostly because he really needed to study. Not that he was avoiding a certain girl. He just didn't know how to... talk to her. Despite the fact that they had a conversation the night before, which was, actually, something more than just a conversation, she still made him nervous.

Stiles sighed and tapped his pencil on his notebook. He hated Math. All those numbers didn't make any sense, and the more time he spent trying to understand them, the more he thinks he's going to lose his mind.

"Hi, Stiles," he heard a female voice right beside him, making him jump and fall off his chair. She quickly stood up to help him.

"Lydia... Hi," he said, sitting down before she could reach him. Lydia lifted her eyebrows as she laughed at his reaction.

"Hi," she said again, still laughing. "Are you ok?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," he answered. "What are you doing here? Don't tell me you spend your free time studying too."

She lifted one eyebrow to him. "I don't know what do you mean."

"We already talked about this. How much is your IQ? 150?"

"170." Stiles threw his arms in the air, and Lydia laughed. "Ok, ok. Allison is on the phone with Scott, and it looked like it could take a while, so I came here."

"Scott, hun?" Lydia shook her head. "They're having a thing right?"

"Did he talk to you about that?

"Oh yes, he did."

"He's letting you crazy, right?"

"Oh yes, he is."

Lydia laughed. "We're on the same boat, then. Allison doesn't talk about anything else." She sighed. "Anyway, I'm happy to know he's liking her too."

"Yeah," he agreed. "Doesn't every high school girl wants to date a college guy?"

She slapped his arm. "No, you idiot. Not every girl." Lydia regretted her words the moment she said them, but Stiles only raised his eyebrows at her. She hurried to change the subject. "Whatever. What are you studying?"

"Math," he said, leaning on his chair. "Actually, I'm thinking of dropping school."

Lydia rolled her eyes. "Don't say that. Math is not that bad."

"I don't believe you because you're a genius, so this is probably your favorite subject, am I right?"

"Well, yes, it is." She grabbed his notebook and his pencil and started writing rapidly. "And one day, my friend, I'm gonna win the Fields Medal."

She handed him his notebook, and there it was: the most difficult equation of the whole story of the universe answered in one minute. His jaw dropped. "Are you human?"

Lydia laughed. "I was the last time I checked." Stiles was still looking at her with amazed eyes, and she blushed. "I can help you, if you want."

"Really?"

"Yeah, I could help you... If you want to." Lydia hoped her face wasn't as red as she thought it would be.&nbsp

Stiles blinked twice. "I think that would be... great." He gave her a small smile, his amber eyes locked with hers. "Yeah, I would like that."

Lydia opened a bright smile. "Ok, then. When are you free?"

"I'm free today."

"Great, me too. Do you mind if we go to my house? I have some important notes there."

He shrugged. "Fine by me. I know where it is, anyway." Lydia laughed shortly as his smile grew wider. The bell rang, and all the students in the library started gathering their things and leaving the place. Stiles did the same and they left together. "What's your next class?"

"Chemistry," she said. "You?"

"History. Two periods," he answered, sighing. "Wanna trade?"

"No, thanks."

"Damn," he said. "I rather play with chemicals than study dead people's lives."

Lydia laughed, and he couldn't help but smile. He realized that he loved to make her laugh. He loved the sound of it, her smile. He walked her to her class while they talked about their classes. When they got there, she turned to him.

"So, thanks to walk me to my class, gentleman," she said.

"The pleasure is mine, milady." And, for her full surprise, he grabbed her hand and leaned to kissed the back of it. Her skin burned where his lips touched. He leaned back, eyes locked with hers, with a small smile on his lips. Lydia was dumbstruck, but she smiled too. "See you later."

"O-Ok," she gasped. He took two steps back, his eyes never leaving hers, until he finally turned around and left her. Lydia stood there for what it seemed to be hours, just processing the fact that Stiles had actually kissed her hand, which was better than the daisies. And the heat was still there, tingling her skin, remembering her of how hard and quick she was falling for him.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"A study date?"

"I'm not sure if we can call it a date."

"But you said it was just you two, studying, right?"

"Well, yes."

"So that's it," Allison said, closing her locker and facing her friend. "A study date."

Lydia rubbed her eyes. "Whatever, Ally. The problem is that I have no idea how am I going to spend hours alone with him."

Allison leaned on the lockers and smiled. "Is it that bad already?"

"Oh, no. I just have the feeling that I may lose my mind if we stay too close to each other."

Allison shook her head and laughed as they left the building. In the parking lot, Lydia saw something that made her heart skip a few beats: Stiles leaning on his jeep, arms crossed on his chest. When he saw her, he opened that small smile she loved.

"Shit," Lydia mumbled under her breath.

"Am I the only one who's suddenly thinking about Twilight?" Allison said.

"Shut up," Lydia said, rolling her eyes. She adjusted the strap of her bag on her shoulder and took a deep breath. "Wish me luck."

"Good luck," the brunette said with a smile. "And don't let him bite you on your first date."

"Jesus, Allison."

"Sorry."

Lydia shook her head and walked in his direction. Every step she took, she wondered if what was about to go through would be one of the best decision she had ever made, or the biggest mistake ever.


	14. Carpe Diem

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, sorry I didn't post it on Saturday as I promised. I had some problems writing this chapter, basicaly because I didn't know how to turn my ideas into words. I hope you like the result anyway :)

Suddenly, it was like a lamp had turned on over Stiles' head, and he thought about what he was doing for the first time: he was following Lydia's car, heading to her house, where they were going to spend hours alone, studying. Stiles started panicking. All the cells in his body told him to run away, turn on the wrong street and get home. But that would make Lydia sad. Or angry. She may never speak to him again.

He couldn't do it. This time he couldn't walk away. Shit, shit, shit, he mentally cried.

When they got to her house, Lydia parked her car in the garage, and he stopped his on the driveway. Stiles hesitated for a whole second before leaving his car after her. She gave him a small smile before turning around and unlocking the front door.

"Ok, here we are," she said when they stepped inside the house. "So, where do you want to study?"

Stiles shrugged. "I don't know, where do you usually do it?"

"In my bed."

"Ooook, we should take the kitchen table."

"Alright," she said. "Just wait a minute, I'll grab my notes."

He nodded and she left. Stiles stood there awkwardly for a whole minute before heading to the kitchen. He remembered the breakfast they had on that table, and he was afraid he would start to sweat of nervousness. Good thing they would be in the kitchen. Things would probably not go the way he expected if they stayed in her room.

As soon as she got to her room, Lydia kicked her heel off her feet and let out a heavy breath. Her heart, that have been acting very normal given the circumstances, started racing. She found an elastic on her dresser and put her hair up on a messy bun. Then she paced around her room, gathering everything they could use to study. Lydia had the feeling that if she stopped and thought about what was about to happen she would probably chicken out. Since she didn't want that to happen, she grabbed her things and hurried downstairs.

"Ok, ready to start?" She asked as she placed her notes on the table and sat across the table from him.

"Yeah, bring it on," he said with a smirk.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

After hours of incessant studies, Stiles was sure Lydia was trying to kill him.

It wasn't just because all the Math she was filling his head with. Lydia was an incredible teacher. She could actually make him understand all those numbers, which was something none of his teachers could do.

The killing part was the little things she did: When she tugged the lock of hair that had fallen off her bun behind her ear. When furrowed her brow, making that little wrinkle appear between her eyebrows. When she placed her hand on her exposed neck. When she bit her lip while reading something. When their arms brushed.

Stiles couldn't be more grateful when she said it was time for a break.

"Thank God," he said, dropping his head on the table.

Lydia laughed and got up. "You're lucky I'm tired. I could do this all day long." Stiles groaned and she laughed again. Her stomach roared, reminding her that they haven't eaten anything in the last past hours. "Are you hungry?"

Stiles nearly jumped out of the chair. "I'm starving," he said as he leaned on the counter.

"Yeah, me too," she said thoughtfully as she opened the cabinets. "But I don't think I don't have any snacks."

He frowned. "Really? How do you survive without snacks?"

"I ate them, genius," she said, rolling her eyes.

"Ok, so..." Stiles scratched the back of his neck nervously. "We could... ask for pizza?"

Lydia turned to him with a smile. "Great idea. Do you have a..."

"I'm on it." He pressed a button on his phone and placed on his ear.

She raised one eyebrow. "You have a pizzaria on speed dial?"

He looked at her with an innocent face. "What? It's useful." Lydia rolled her eyes. "Hi, I would like to... Hey, John! What's up man?"

Lydia looked at her with a strange look on her face. He just shrugged and mouthed 'speed dial'. "Yeah, a big one. Hum..." He looked at her, and Lydia mouthed 'nothing with pineapples'. While Stiles finished their order, she went to gather her things on the table.

"Ok, thanks man," he said and hung up the phone. "It should be here in forty minutes tops."

"I can't believe you have a pizzeria on speed dial."

"Why not? I'm a teenager!"

Lydia rolled her eyes again. "You're not gonna be a teenager forever."

He turned to her grinned. "Carpe diem, baby," he said with a low, almost seductive voice.

She raised her eyebrows and laughed, he following her right after. Lydia was still giggling as she left the kitchen and went to the living room. "Wanna watch something?"

"Yeah, sure." They sat on the couch and watched a comedy tv show as they talked about random things. It was surprising the way they got along well, like they were old friends. Lydia's cheeks hurt when the pizza finally came. She was about to get up when Stiles did it first. "No, I get it."

"Alright," she said. Stiles left to answer the door as she flipped through the channels, looking for something to watch.

Stiles came back yelling 'pizzaaa' with a fake Italian accent. He placed the box on the coffee table and sat down on the floor, resting his back on the couch. "The Avengers? Really?" He asked as he picked a slice from the box and took a bite.

"What? I like it," Lydia said, stretching her arm to pick a slice to herself.

"How many times have you watched it?"

"Four times, I guess."

"Jesus. Get a life, Lydia." She slapped the back of his head lightly, even though she loved the sound of her name in his voice. He laughed shortly and turned to her. "Nine times. I won." Lydia smiled and rolled her eyes.

Lydia could have watched that movie a hundred times; none of them would be better than that night. Apparently, Stiles knew almost all the lines of the movies, and spoke using different tones of voice for each character. She had to be careful not to choke with her pizza. She had to stop eating because she could barely breathe between the bursts of laughter. When the movie ended, she dried the tears that had fallen from her eyes.

"Are you ok back there?" Stiles asked, changing the channel when the credits started to roll.

"I'm never gonna watch this movie again," she said. "Seriously, why did Captain America had that soft voice?"

He shrugged. "He seems to be a soft guy."

She raised one eyebrow. "Really?"

"Yeah, being a 70 year old soldier and all."

"I would never use the word soft to describe a man like him."

He turned to her. "Like what?"

"You know, hot, handsome, polite, strong..."

"He's 70 year old."

"He doesn't look like 70."

Stiles rolled his eyes and turned back. "Yeah, whatever," he mumbled.

Lydia smiled brightly though he couldn't see it. Was he jealous? She wanted to laugh, not just because he was jealous of a fictional character, but because he was, somehow, taking care of her. She never thought jealousy would make her so happy. Stiles kept in silence while they watched a cooking reality show.

Unconsciously, she reached her hand and started playing with his hair.

Stiles tensed for a second; she was touching him, and that was enough reason to make his heart race. But her touch was so gentle, so electrical, yet so soft. Stiles sighed and closed his eyes, leaning his head back as he melted under her hands.

"Your hair is softer than I imagined," she commented.

"Hmmm...." he mumbled. "I feel like a puppy."

Lydia laughed. "You want me to stop?"

"God, no. Don't stop."

She smiled and kept playing with his hair, massaging the back of his neck and his scalp once in a while. She laughed when Stiles, without opening his eyes, stretched his arm and picked the last piece of pizza from the box and ate it.

"How come you're still hungry?" He shrugged and kept eating it. "Stiles?" She called when he didn't move for a few minutes.

"Hmmm...?"

"You don't seem comfortable," she said, tapping him on the shoulder and landing her feet on the floor. "Come here."

She put a pad on her lap and gestured for him to sit on the couch. Stiles turned to her and smiled, standing up like a happy puppy. He didn't even hesitate to sit and lay his head on her lap. Lydia laughed and kissed his forehead, making him sigh and close his eyes.

It felt so natural and right to them to just stay like that. Lydia looked at his relaxed face; she didn't know if he was asleep, but he had a small smile on his lips. He was beautiful. Her melted heart only remembered her how much she liked him, and that moment made her fall even more in love with the asleep dork on her couch.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Lydia. Lydia!" Her mom shook her one more time, finally waking the girl. She squinted her eyes, protecting them from the light.

"Wha... Hi mom," she mumbled, sitting straight. Stiles was still asleep on her lap, with his mouth hanging a bit open. She smiled coyly, which didn't go unnoticed by her mom.

"Hi," she said, a smile playing on her lips. "I'll be in my room." She sent her daughter a look and left.

Lydia shook his shoulder. "Stiles, wake up." He mumbled something she didn't understand, so she shook him harder. "Stiles!"

He woke up startled, falling from the couch with a loud bump. "Are you ok?" She asked. He mumbled a 'hmm' with his face against the floor. He sat down after a few seconds.

"What time is it?" He asked.

"I don't know."

He grabbed his phone from his pocket. There were three missed calls from his aunt. "Shit. I gotta go." He said, standing up.

"Alright," she said, following him to the kitchen, where she waited as he grabbed his backpack and hung it on his shoulder. "Let me walk you to your car."

She opened the front door and they walked in silence to his blue jeep. Stiles opened the door, threw his backpack in the car and turned to her.

"So, hum, thanks for the... You know, the help, and all," he said. He was almost grateful it was too dark for her to see how nervous he was. The palm of his hands were sweaty.

She smiled. "You're welcome. Thanks for the pizza."

"Ok," he said. They stood in silence after that. Stiles' heart pounded hard, because he wanted to say something more. He wanted to touch her. He never felt so close to anyone, craving someone so much. He wanted her. "Fuck it."

Stiles placed his hands on both sides of her head and crushed his lips on hers. Lydia froze for a second before placing her hands on his hips and letting herself melt on the kiss. Stiles felt something break inside him, warming everything inside him, setting him on fire.

It felt like his heart was going to blow on his chest.

When they broke apart after what seemed to be hours, both of them breathing rapidly. Lydia couldn't help the smile to appear on her lips. Stiles didn't smile, simply because he was too stunned. He put his hands down and turned around to his car.

Lydia watched him leave, with a smile she knew it would last for days.


	15. Runaway

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry sorry please don't hate me!!! I know this chapter is waaay too late, but I had some problems writing it (writer's block is a bitch). This chapter is way too short and I didnt like it very much... Next one will be better, I promise!

Turned out that her smile didn't last a whole day.

Lydia woke up early the next day, hours before her phone sounds. She did smile at the ceiling for a while, just enjoying all those feelings running through her veins: joy, happiness, exitement... love. She sighed and turned on her bed, now smiling at her pillow. It was amazing how things had changed fast.

Stiles kissed her, and she was in love.

It sounded incredibly lame to even think about that, but it was the truth. She was aware that she should feel insecure, afraid to get hurt, and all that first love shit, but she didn't care. At least not in that moment. She just wanted to enjoy the feeling.

She left her bed and went to her bathroom, where she took a long cold shower. She wrapped herself in a towel and went to find the clothes she was going to wear. When she finally chose the perfect one, her bed was covered with discarded options. She got dressed, did her hair and make up and after checking herself up a million times, she left her room.

Her mom hadn't woken up yet, so she had a quick breakfast, brushed her teeth and left for school. Lydia drove and sang out loud. She parked her car and met Allison on her locker.

"Lydia Martin, you look amazing!" she said, hugging her best friend. "If that boy wasn't on your feet before..."

Lydia laughed and rolled her eyes. Of course that after the events of the night before, she had ran to call her friend.

"Well, thank you," she said, opening her locker, trying to sound indifferent. "But I'm not dressed like that for him. A girl has to treat herself."

"Right," the brunette said. "Just warn me when he's around. I don't want to interrupt anything."

Lydia sent her a look as she closed her locker. They headed to their classroom and she frowned when she saw Stiles' desk empty. _He's just late,_ she told herself. _Stop worrying so much._ And she followed her own advice until she noticed that he didn't go to school at all.

She walked in the hallways asking everyone she knew if someone had seen him. Some of them didn't even know who he was, but none of them knew where he was. Lydia texted him, asking if everything was fine, if he was ok, but he didn't answer.

"News from Stiles?" Allison asked when they met in the cafeteria.

"No, he didn't answer any of my texts." Lydia sighed as she sat down heavily. "Is it weird that I'm so worried about him?"

"No, not at all," the brunette said. "Maybe he had a dentist emergency."

Lydia raised her eyebrows. "Really? Right after we kissed?"

"Ok, maybe not. Bathroom emergency?"

"Gross. Maybe he broke his leg."

"Yeah, and that's why he couldn't text you back."

"He could be sedated." Allison raised one eyebrow. "Ugh, I'm feeling so stupid."

"Lydia, relax, ok? There must be a reason he's been ignoring you like this."

Lydia took a deep breath. "You know what? I shouldn't care so much. It's not like we're dating or something."

Allison smiled. "That's right."

"Yeah. Stiles is a grown up man. He can do whatever the fuck he wants."

"Right."

"It's a free country after all."

"Ok, Lydia, you made your point." Lydia sighed and dropped her head on her hands. Allison rubbed her shoulder.

"I hate him," she murmured.

"No, you don't," Allison said. "Now let's fill this head with some Math, ok?"

"Ok," Lydia said, discouraged.

"Yay. Come on." Allison stood up and offered her friend a hand. Lydia held it with a weak smile.

Lydia really wished she could follow her friend's advice. She tried to put all her focus on the numbers on her notebook, but she always ended up thinking about him. She felt so, so stupid. She didn't have the right to be so concerned about his life. Ok, he had kissed her the night before, but that was it. That kiss could mean absolutely nothing to him. She hated herself for falling so fast for him.

 _Jesus, Lydia, stop overreacting!_ , she told herself. Maybe Allison was right. There should be reason. Whatever it was, she convinced herself not to care. Stiles would talk to her when he wanted to. She didn't care. _That's it. Fuck you Stiles Stilinski._

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Stiles threw one last punch before his phone ring. He unwrapped the wrist wraps as he walked towards the table, where his phone was. Scott's name was written on the screen. Stiles snorted and pressed the speaker button.

"Hey Scott," he said, wrapping his wrist again.

"Hey man. So, is it true that you finally dropped out of school?"

Stiles furrowed his brow. "No, it's not."

"But you're not in school right now."

"No," he said, stepping closer to the punching bag and positioning his wristd in front of his face. Scott waited for him to finish punching before he spoke again.

"Can you tell me why?" He asked.

"I wasn't in the mood."

"Stiles."

"Why are you even asking? Didn't Allison already tell you everything?"

"She did cal me because nobody knew where you were, and she also told me that Lydia was worried about you." Lydia. The simple sound of her name was enough to remind him why he was there. No matter how much he tried to distract himself, she always came back to mind. "Now, if expect me to believe in your 'I wasn't in the mood' shit..."

"I kissed her last night," he blurted out.

"You kis... Well, that explains a lot."

"It does?"

"Yeah. You're afraid that you traumatized the poor girl."

Stiles snorted. "Fuck off."

"So you're gonna tell me what happened?" Scott asked after a few seconds of silence.

Simple. What happened was he did what he did best: run away.

He wasn't proud of this. He was aware that he should be, and was, ashamed of himself. No man likes to admit he chickened out, especially if the situation involves girls. But that was what he did. Stiles ran away like a scared boy. He was scared of what he felt. Kissing Lydia was one of the best things he did, something that he was craving for so long without even knowing. It also made him feel something that he had never felt. Something warm, slow, yet strong and overwhelming. He didn't know how to handle that. He was afraid of what that was, even though he already knew the answer.

"I'm not sure if I should have done that," he said with a low voice.

"What? What do you mean?" Scott asked with a concerned voice. "You regret kissing her?"

"No! No, it's not it. " Stiles took a deep breath. "I just didn't think about what would happen... after."

"After? Wait, are you talking about sex?"

Stiles frowned. "What? No! Jesus, Scott."

"Ok, sorry! But you're not helping me here, man."

"I meant I didn't know how I would feel after the kiss," he explained. "She was there, and I wanted it, so I did it. I wasn't expecting... this."

"Shit, man," Scott said after a few seconds of silence. "

"I know."

"Have you talked to her since last night?"

"No." Somehow, talk about that made him ten times angrier with himself. He should have thought about her before. Lydia must hate him now. Not for one second he thought about the way she felt, and that was the bastard he always knew he was. "I don't deserve her."

"What do you mean?"

Stiles sighed. "Look at me, Scott. I'm fucking scared of everything she makes me feel. I don't want to keep running away from her. I don't want to hurt her. I think she's better off without me."

"So you're gonna run away again," Scott said, and by the tone of his voice it was clear he was getting angry with his brother.

"I want to protect her from the fucked up man I am. She deserves better."


	16. Pushed Away

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! I want you to know that I'm posting today, but I don't know when the next chapter is coming out, because I'm traveling tomorrow to spend the rest of the year with my family, and I don't know if Im gonna have time to post... Anyway, I hope you guys like this chapter (its a bit short, Im sorry).  
> Merry Christmas and a happy happy New Year!!

Lydia hated to admit it, but she couldn't ignore her heart racing when she saw him leaning on his car. 

The night before, she stayed on her bed ruminating everything that happened during the day. She wondered and wondered until she fell asleep, calling herself stupid during the process. She hated that she cared so much, but she couldn't help feeling relieved when she saw him. No broken bones. Lydia put on her best casual, almost non-caring face and walked towards him. 

"Hey," she said casually. Stiles only shook his head. With his arms crossed on his chest, he looked intimidating. His lips didn't form the smile she loved. "Is everything ok?"

He nodded again, and it only proved her something was not ok. The boy in front of her reminded her of the boy she met months before: cold, impassive, even a bit scary. He didn't look like the guy who kissed her two nights before. The relief she felt minutes before was gone. 

Lydia adjusted the strap of her bag on her shoulder nervously. "Are you sure?"

"I'm ok, Lydia," he finally said. His voice was so cold that she shivered. She usually liked to hear him say her name, but that time was different. Something happened yesterday, she wasn't wrong. He couldn't change like this, all of sudden. And if she wasn't dying to know what happened, now she definitely was. 

"I was worried about you. You were gone for a whole day, no one knew where you were."

"I know."

"I tried to call you, but..."

"I know, ok?" He cut her off. Lydia shut her mouth and looked at him with wide eyes. "You called like a thousand times. Last time I checked, I didn't owe anyone an explanation about my life."

Lydia stared at him dumbstruck, mind going completely blank. Stiles stared back, his face made of stone. His words hurt her more than they should, making her eyes get welled with tears. She didn't let them fall though - she wasn't going to cry for so little. Looking into his amber eyes, she saw a hint of emotion, concern maybe, but it was gone fast. 

"Well, I'm sorry that I care about you," she said with a controlled voice. "I just though..."

"You thought it wrong," he cut her off again. "We're not a couple. We're not dating. We kissed once, it doesn't mean anything."

I should have figured. Lydia's hand trembled with the afford to fight back the tears. She took a deep breath, trying to keep her voice steady. "I was going to say that I thought something bad had happened to you." A single tear managed to fall from her eye, but she was quick to catch it with her hand. Stiles' eyes softened a bit, his brow furrowing. "But you're right, I shouldn't care so much."

Lydia turned around and took two steps forward before turning to him again, her blood was boiling with anger. "You know what? Fuck you!" she yelled, coughing the attention of some students. Stiles stared at her with wide eyes. Lydia turned around again, but this time she ran, not able to hold her tears anymore. 

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx 

You made her cry. You made her cry, you fucking bastard!, he yelled to himself. Stiles' mind was on fire. He was suffocating from the inside, and the crowded hallways were not helping. He never hated himself so much. It wasn't just hate; he was disgusted with himself. He stormed into the man's room, going to one of the sinks and washing his face with cold water. It didn't make him feel any better. He couldn't wash out her face from his mind, just like he couldn't dry the tears that he had already taken from her. 

Stiles was awfully good at this, hiding any feeling he might have inside of him. He configured his mind to keep people away, and when someone got too close, he ran away. Old habits die hard, but that time he didn't do it for him. He did it for her. He knew it was better to keep her away now, because he was sure he would screw things up. He didn't want to hurt her any more. He knew he did the right thing. 

But that didn't make it hurt any less.

"FUCK!" he blurted out, hitting the mirror with his fist, scaring a freshman who left the bathroom with his belt still open. Blood dripped from the hole on the mirror, and even more blood was coming out from the cuts on his hand. He opened the faucet and watched the water clean the blood and the glass. There might have some pieces under his skin, but he didn't care. It didn't hurt. Not much than knowing that he may have lost the girl he loved forever.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The teacher's mouth kept opening and closing, probably forming words, but Lydia didn't hear anything. She stared at the letters on her notebook, but she didn't read anything. She just sat there, apathetic, on her desk. 

Stiles didn't want her. 

She had never had her heart broken before. She had few boyfriends before, but the break ups were always easy, mutual. Lydia felt like, while she stared blankly, small pieces of her heart were falling from her chest. It hurt. 

"Miss Martin?" 

Lydia slowly raised her eyes from her notebook, realizing that the whole class was looking at her. 

"Yes?" She answered with a weak voice. 

"Are you feeling ok? Do you want to go see the nurse?" Mr. Banner asked. 

"I-hum... Yes, thank you." She gathered her things from her desk, grabbed her bag and left the classroom. Lydia walked with large steps on the empty hallway, covering her mouth with her hand to stop her sobs. She thanked silently for the lack of people on her way - she didn't really want anyone to see her like that. 

Lydia headed straight to her car. There was no place she rather be than her room. She didn't care she was going to lose a whole day of class - she just wanted to be alone. She held her cry while she drove home. 

When she finally got to her room, the tears were already falling from her eyes, but this time she let them roll. Lydia closed the door and slipped to the floor, with her back against the wood, letting out real sobs. 

Stupid, stupid, stupid. She knew she shouldn't fall in love so quickly. When did it ever work? Someone always ends up hurt. She didn't know why she ever thought it would be different with her. Stiles was right. It was just one kiss. People kiss all the time, it not always mean anything. Lydia wished it wasn't too late for her. Maybe the love she felt was just like fresh glue, something you can wipe out without causing any damage. 

If it was true, she was going to make it go away. 

She sat there for hours without moving, but she didn't notice it until someone knocked at her door. "Lydia, are you there?" She heard Allison's voice calling. 

She slowly stood up and opened the door. Lydia should look worse than she thought, because as soon as Allison saw her, she hurried to hug her friend. And she didn't realize how bad she needed it until she started crying again. 

"What happened?" Allison asked softly, leading her friend to her bed. 

"I... I..." Lydia tried to say, but the sobs made it hard. Allison stroked her hair, murmuring 'shh, shh' until her friend finally calmed down. 

"You ok now?"

Lydia nodded and sighed. "I talked to Stiles today."

"And?"

"And he's ok," she said, and started crying again. "I feel so stupid, Allison. I was so fucking worried about him, and he doesn't give a shit about it. He doesn't give a shit about me."

Allison frowned. "He said that to you?"

"He made it clear," she answered, wiping out the tears from her face. "But he did said that the kiss didn't mean anything, so. "

"Son of a bitch!" the brunette exclaimed. 

"Yeah!" Lydia said in the same tone. "I can't believe I was falling for him. I was stupid, and he's an asshole, and I hate him."

"So, what are you going to do?"

"I will forget him," she answered firmly. "He doesn't want me, I won't want him."

"You get it, girl!" Allison said, holding her hand for a high five. Lydia tapped on it, laughing. "So, I guess you are going to the Lake House."

"What is it?"

"It's a night club, aka the best place to forget about your problems. You're gonna love it. And," Allison smiled *maliciosamente* "I bet you're gonna get yourself a hottie before the night is over."

Lydia smiled. "That's not what I was talking about, but it seems like a good plan."

"Of course it is!" Allison said, excited. "Hey, I called Scott, and he said he would come! I can't wait to..."

Lydia rolled her eyes. "Allison..." she murmured, which didn't stop her friend to keep talking.


	17. The Lake House

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oi oi! Sorry to make you guys wait for too long. This chapter is one of my favorites, and it took me a while to finish it. Anyway, its here, and I hope you guys like it the way I did :)
> 
> p.s.: I feel like I haven't been thanking you enough for the comments. They are really important to me, and it always makes me happy to know you're enjoying the story. So, thank you guys, you are awesome!!

For the next two weeks, it was like they never met. 

Even thought if felt like they had gone back to hate each other, Stiles knew that everything was different. Back then he wouldn't keep searching for her strawberry blonde hair in the crowded cafeteria, even if they didn't talk, he had to know she was there. He had to look at her, somehow. And if her big green eyes divert from wherever she was looking at and met his, she would look away quickly, determined to ignore him, and he would keep looking, until his heart couldn't take it anymore. Stiles would leave the cafeteria and hide somewhere, keep his distance, smoke a cigarette or two, but only until the bell rang, so he could go back to the hallway and watch her go to her next class. Lydia Martin walked like a queen. Every clap of her heels on the floor echoed in his head, like everything stoped to watch her pass. 

The days when he smiled were when he heard her laugh. 

There were times, when the he felt like he was falling apart, that he would close his eyes and hold on to that moment like a drug, he would never get enough of it. And there were times that he would run away, because it was simply too much. It felt like the world was throwing at his face everything he had lost, and making sure he knew how beautiful she was, and that he could have been the one to make her laugh. Maybe hold her hand, kiss her. Until he fucked up. That was why he didn't regret what he did. He knew himself too well. 

He was simply too broken to make her happy. 

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx   
Lydia didn't drop one single tear after that day. 

She had forced herself to change from the inside. She gathered all the bad feelings - the rejection, the sadness, and others that she didn't even bother to put a name on, - and locked them in a small box on the very bottom of her. It would be better to just erase them, but she knew it was too early. She was still too hurt. She had to take her time for her wounds to heal, and then everything would be easier. She wouldn't have to pretend she was fine, to smile at everyone, act like she was all confident and strong. Or maybe she would be forced to keep her façade for so long, that she would be just used to it. 

Only at night, while she was in the shower, with no makeup or clothes on, and she didn't have to keep her perfect mask on, she allowed herself to feel. It was always easy to let the bad feelings go free and hit her, but she never cried. Even if her chest hurt so much that it felt like it was going to explode, she never dropped a tear. Because she knew that if she did it, it would only get harder to lock everything up again, to pick up her pieces. So, after the brief minutes, she would get ready to bed and go to sleep waiting for a good day. 

And if it wasn't, she would make it a good one.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx 

"God, Allison, you're gonna make Scott drop out of college," Lydia said with a chuckle. She had finished getting ready half an hour ago, and was waiting for her friend to quit checking herself out on the mirror, searching for some flaw on her hair or makeup. 

Allison was wearing a tight black dress and heels, and was honestly looking like a model on Lydia's opinion. "It's the first time we meet each other in ages. I want him to remember me," she said, checking her butt for the hundredth time. "And I also want to make him want to take it off, so..." She sent her friend a dirty look. 

"Bitch," she said, laughing. Lydia stood up from the bed and walked over to the mirror, adjusting her top and making sure it showed just enough cleavage. 

"Don't talk like you don't want to get some tonight," Allison teased, raising one eyebrow. Lydia stuck out her tongue for her. 

"Neither of us will get anything if we don't leave this room," she said, grabbing her purse on the bed and heading to the door. "You coming?"

"Oh, yes!" she answered, hurring up and following her friend. 

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"I'm not going."

"Stiles..."

"Not going."

"But..."

"Nop."

"Don't be an asshole..."

"Fuck you, I'm not going."

Scott let out a heavy breath and rubbed his face with his hands. "Come on man, you can't just stay here and wait for the world to end."

"I would be glad if it ended today anyway," Stiles murmured from his bed, throwing a basketball up and catching it with his hands. 

"Look man, I know you're upset about... pretty much everything," Scott said and Stiles raised an eyebrow to him. "but it's a party for crying out loud! You need to get your head out of your sad ass for at least one night."

"Ok, first of all, fuck you," he said, sitting up. "And second, you know I don't like parties. I only go to them when I wanna get drunk or laid, or both."

"And do you need more reasons to go? Come on, Stiles, you need this."

"Stop telling me what I need," he murmured. 

"Well, since you're being too stupid to see what you need, I think is my duty as your big brother to tell you that."

"You're jerk, you know that?"

Scott shrugged. "I've been told that once or twice."

"Guess I'll have to drink your jerkness out of my system now," he said, standing up. 

"Great!" Scott said, claping his hands together. "Now go take a shower, you're stinking."

"Fuck you."

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Oh man, I missed that place," Scott said, looking at the big iluminated house ahead of them. 

The Lake House was far the most favorite place for all the young people in Beacon Hills. It was found abandoned by a bunch of teenagers twelve years ago and it slowly built itself until it became a huge house, full of alchol, horny, wild and histerical teenagers, and God knows what else. Stiles had only gone there two or three times, and those nights would definitetly be remembered, mainly because of the God-knows-what-else part. 

"Come on, let's get inside," Scott said, walking towards the house. The loud music hit Stiles' ears hard, and it took him a few seconds to get used to it. They made their way through the crowd with Scott constantly looking around and stretching the neck. Stiles was about to ask who was he looking after when the older boy smiled. "There she is."

Stiles turned around to see Allison standing next to a table not so far from where they were, talking to a few people. He rolled his eyes. "I should have figured you only came here to..." His words went lost when he saw her. Lydia was holding a glass with a pink liquid on it, and laughed openly at something. Stiles' heart missed a few beats, because she looked painfully beautiful, and in his opinion, that wasn't fair. "Shit, Scott," he murmured.

"What?" he asked, looking around. "Oh..." he said when he found her. 

"Why didn't you tell me you came here to meet Allison?" Stiles asked, suddenly mad at the guy standing in front of him. 

"I thought it was pretty obvious," he said, frowning. "I mean, we have parties like this all the time on campus. She's the reason I came here."

"Well, you should have told me," Stiles said. 

"Why does that even matter?" Scott asked. 

"Because she is here," he said, lowering his voice and looking down to his sneakers. He wasn't sure if he could say her name without wanting to punch himself. 

"Shit man..." Scott murmured. 

"Yeah, shit," he said, sighing. Stiles knew he should go home. Lydia was having a good time and he didn't want to be the one to ruin it. But, from the other side, the place was so crowded that she could spend her whole night without spotting him. He joined this thought to the desire of alchol and decided to stay. "You know what, you go get your girl. I don't want to ruin your night"

"Are you sure?" Scott asked, but he couldn't hide the excitement on his voice. 

"Yeah man. I'll be fine," he said. Scott tapped him on the shoulder and ran to meet Allison. Stiles made his way through the crowd until he finally found the bar. Sitting on one of the chairs, he called for the barista. When the man asked what he would be having, he sighed. "Just give me something strong, ok?"

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Lydia wasn't drunk, but she could definetly feel the effects of alchol hitting her. 

She had left Allison and Scott alone, part because she didn't want to be the third wheel,- and stay next to a happy couple was everything she didn't need-, but also because she really wanted to dance. Lydia realized that she haven't danced in forever, which was a shame, because she loved to let the music take control of her body. So she went alone to the dance floor, dancing with herself and with whoever came to dance with her. She didn't remember the last time she felt so carefree and happy. 

Many guys flirted with her, and she may have flirted back, but she wasn't in a hurry to pick one of them. She enjoyed herself until her feet hurt, when she went to the bar to drink water. Before she noticed, she found herself laughing along with a tall and handsome guy. 

Stiles just couldn't stop watching them. No matter how hard he tried, it was like there was no one else in the house and a spotlight over them. Lydia was talking to Derek Hale, the number one player of the lacrosse team until he graduated last year. He still had those abs that were almost three times Stiles' arm size and still used one of those ridiculous tight shirts. Lydia seemed to be having a good time with him. Stiles should be just fine with that, God, he should be grateful.

But his hand was way to low on her waist. 

He didn't know for how long he couldn't take his eyes off them. He stared at the guy's hand like he could burn it just looking at it. Stiles held his glass tigher when she threw back her head, laughing at something he had said. That was when their eyes met for the first time that night. 

"Oh my God," Lydia murmured, almost dropping her glass. 

"What is it?" Derek asked, taking a sip of his own drink. 

"Nothing, just..." She hurried to look at him and flash a smile. "This thing is delicious!" She said, drinking from the glass she was holding.

"That's like your fourth," he said, laughing.

"And it gets better every time!" she said, laughing along. 

Lydia hurried to change the subject, anything to distract her from the guy standing across the room from her. Her eyes betrayed her and kept searching for him. It would help a lot if he just didn't stand there and act like a creep, which was definitetly bothering her. She could almost feel his eyes drawing holes on her skin. 

When Derek bent to say something in her ear, Stiles lost it. 

The anger was way bigger than the pain he felt when his hands smashed the glass. A few people around him stopped and looked at him, but nobody payed real attention. Lydia stared at him with wide eyes, and he stared back before storming out of the house. 

"Would you excuse me for a second?" Lydia said and left without waiting for an answer. She walked as fast as she could through the crowd, pushing people out of her way. She didn't know exactly was she was doing, but her head was clear. She wanted answers and she wanted to say something. She was going to confront him and make him listen, and maybe hit him if she got lucky.

The cold breeze hit her when she finally got outside. She spotted him walking away with large steps and ran after him, taking off her heels so she wouldn't twist her ankle with the grass. 

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" She yelled when he was close enough to listen.

"I don't know what are you talking about," he said dryly, without stop walking.

"I'm talking about you watching me like a fucking stalker!" He didn't say anything. Lydia pushed his arm when she got closer, making him turn to her. "Hey, stop!"

"Why?" He asked angrily. "So you can yell at me? No thanks," he said and resumed his walk. 

"You have no right!" she yelled, walking behind him. "You have no right to judge me, Stiles."

"I wasn't judging you."

"Then what were you doing, hun?" She asked, making him stop again. "Why did you start caring about what I do?"

Stiles sighed and rubbed his face. "Lydia..."

"Why, Stiles?" She asked, her green eyes boring into his. He knew she wasn't talking about what happened at the party anymore. He could see the pain she was feeling, something she's been hiding from everyone. 

He looked at his shoes, unable to look at her. "I'm sorry," he murmured. 

"You're sorry?" She asked skeptically. She let out a small laugh in disbelief and shook her head. "You hurt me, you asshole. You know, there were so many other ways to say you were not interested. If you ever cared just a little bit about me, you would've..."

"I lied!" he blurted out, throwing his arms up. 

Lydia blinked. "What?"

"I lied... when I said those things to you," he said with a tired voice. Seeing how hurt she was making it a thousand times more difficult to keep the secret. He couldn't handle it anymore. "I just...", He shook his head. 

"Why did you lie, Stiles?" She asked, her tone lower. 

"I... I had to keep you away from me," he said, lifting his eyes to look at her. Lydia stared at him with wide eyes, questions popping in her head without finding the way to her mouth. "I'm not good for you, Lydia."

She shook her head. Of all the times she looked for reasons, she never, ever, thought about that. He lied. She was wrong. "You can't know that."

Stiles let out a humorless laugh. "I know myself more than you do. I have done some... fucked up things in my life.  
I didn't want to... work things out between us just to fuck everything up later. I care too much about you... I thought it was better to stop it before it got serious."

"It? You mean us?" She asked, with a tight heart. Her eyes burned with upcoming tears. "D-did you want us... to happen?"

Stiles smiled softly. "Fuck yes, I do. More than anything..." His smile vanished and he looked back to his shoes. "But I told you I'm not good for you."

"Stop saying that," she murmured.

Stiles looked at her with sad eyes. "You don't want to be with me, Lydia."

"I do!" she yelled, her voice cracking. "Stop talking like you know everything, because you don't. I... I like you, Stiles. I really like you. And I don't give a shit if you think you're not good for me."

"Lydia..." he said with a pleading voice.

"I don't give a shit, Stiles!" She took two steps closer and looked him dead in the eye. "I also don't care about who you were or what you did in the past. All I care about is what is happening now. And right now what I want is to be with you, nothing else. 

Stiles smiled softly, touched by her words. "I don't deserve you."

Lydia smiled and shook her head, one tear falling from her eye. "Just shut up and kiss me."

He didn't hesitate. He cupped her face with his hands and linked his lips with hers. 

Stiles had kissed too many girls in his life, but none of them could ever be compared to kissing Lydia. Maybe because he didn't feel for them what he felt for her. Or maybe kissing Lydia Martin were just a remarkable experience for anyone. Whatever the reason was, he was addicted to her lips. That kiss shouted all their feelings, burned from the inside out. 

When they broke apart, they kept their foreheads linked. Stiles caressed her cheek with his thumb, making Lydia smile and sigh. "By the way, you look beautiful."

She smiled wider and buried her face on his neck. He wrapped his arms around her and made a silent promise to never let her go, no matter what.


	18. Forgotten Headaches

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I came to the conclusion that after a big event, comes a massive author's block. But, anyway, this chap is not too long, but I'm gonna travel tomorrow, and I didn't want to leave you guys waiting. Hope you like it!

The sun coming from the window was the only thing that kept Lydia from sleeping all day.

She growled, squinting her eyes to the light and wishing she could develop some kind of mental power, so she could close the curtains without leaving the bed. She rolled on the sheets, placing a pillow on her head and trying to fall back asleep. And she almost did, until she got hit by a strong nausea that snapped her eyes open.

She rolled again, lying on her back and taking deep breaths, hoping that the nausea would go away. Maybe it was just a morning sickness, since she didn't remember eating anything different. But then it hit her again, stronger this time, and she could feel the vomiting coming up her throat.

"Shit," she said, covering her mouth with her hand and running to the bathroom. She fell on her knees in front of the toilet, lifting the seat and throwing her guts up. When she's done, she collapses on the floor, trembling and sweating, her head hurting like a bitch.

Lydia didn't have to be a doctor to know the cause of all this: hangover.

Well, all those drinks had to go somewhere, she thought.

She threw up one more time before being sure it was over. She got up on her weak knee, slowly took her clothes off, afraid that the nausea would come back and stepped in the shower.

The cold water on her sweaty body felt unbelievably good. Lydia sighed. She reminded of how many times she cried in the shower. It made her smile, and even laugh, because this time was so different. All the sadness was gone, replaced by purest kind of joy, happiness. Lydia touched her lips, thinking about the kisses they shared last night, almost feeling them. Yes, this time was different. She knew they meant something. Something new, big, and, she dared say, epic.

After she finished her shower, she dried herself and changed into oversized clothes that matched perfectly to a hangover on a Sunday morning. Her stomach growled, reminding her that she hadn't eaten anything in hours, and according to the clock, it was almost 1:00 p.m. Lydia grabbed her phone and went downstairs, where she found a glass of water, a chart of aspirins and a note from her mother:

_You got really late last night, so I figured you might need this. You know where the food is, so you better eat and drink water._   
_Hungover is a bitch._   
_Love you :)_   
_p. s.: if something good happened last night (you know what I'm talking about), you have to tell me later. I'm your mother._

Lydia smiles to the note. She loved her mom, and she was definitely going to tell her what happened. That reminded her that she haven't talked to Allison yet. She wondered where her friend might be. Was she at home or somewhere else with Scott? She figured that it was better to wait for the call.

She opened the fridge and picked all the ingredients for a sandwich. She had just started making it when her phone rang. Lydia picked the device, her heart skipping a beat when she read Stiles' name on the screen. She smiled and pressed the green button.

"Hey," she said, excited like a little girl on Christmas.

"Fun fact: I do not remember getting drunk last night," he said with a husky voice.

Lydia laughed on the phone, which was everything Stiles needed on the crappy day he was having. He had woken up with a splitting headache that wouldn't go away, even after he took all the painkillers he could. He just laid on his bed with his head buried in his pillow until he figured the one thing he needed.

And, damn, it felt so good to know he could just call her.

"How bad is it?" She asked.

"I'm fine," he said, rolling and facing the ceiling. "Despite the feeling of a thousand little men trying to break into my skull."

Lydia laughed again. "Lucky you. I flushed my guts down the toilet this morning."

"Shit, that sucks."

"Yeah," she agreed, taking a small jump yo sit on the counter. "How did you get away with only a headache? You drank a lot more than me, that's not fair."

"I have a high alcohol tolerance," he said, and she could almost picture his smug smile.

"I assume that high tolerance comes from practice," she said, raising an eyebrow.

"That's correct."

"So are telling me that if I go to a bar I may find a picture of you surrounded by empty bottles on the wall?"

"Hm, no. I always refused the cameras, otherwise you would find a picture of me on every bar of Beacon Hills."

Lydia frowned. "Are you kidding? I can't tell if you're kidding."

He laughed lightly. "I told you I've done some fucked up things in my life. I'm a legend."

"Legend, right. Sounds more like a douche," she said. "How am I gonna tell my mom I'm dating a douche?"

"Well, while you figure that, you can tell her you're dating the coolest guy you'll ever meet," he said.

Lydia smiled and bit her lip. None of them said anything for a while, just letting the words sink in. That was the confirmation they didn't need: they were really dating, together, as a _couple_. With no need of awkward moments, or fancy dinners. The feelings they knew they had for each other was enough.

"Is it weird that I really want to kiss you right now?" Stiles asked.

Lydia blushed and giggled. "No, not at all."

Their moment was interrupted by the ring of the doorbell, followed by insistent knocks on the door.

"What was that?" Stiles asked.

"Just hold on a sec," she said, placing her phone on the counter and jumping to the floor. She walked to the door and looked through the window, just to find Allison grinning and waving excitedly. Lydia rolled her eyes, but smiled and opened the door.

"You won't _believe_ the perfect night I had," she squinted, giving her friend a bear hug.

Lydia laughed. "Alright, I really am dying to know the details. Just wait a sec, I was on the phone."

Allison nodded. "Ok, sorry!"

She went back to the kitchen and picked up her phone. "Hey, I'm back."

"Hey, did someone break into your house or something?" Stiles asked.

"Hm... no. It was just Allison."

"Ok... Is she walking funny?"

Lydia wrinkled her nose. "Wha-no! Jesus, Stiles."

Allison, who had been patiently waiting on the other side of the counter, chocked with the water she was drinking. "Stiles? You're... You- Lydia, what is going on?"

"I-hm... I gotta go," she said.

"Is she freaking out?" He asked with an amused voice.

"Pretty much," she answered. "Talk to you later?"

"Sure. Call me if you want to bail."

"I won't. Bye!" she said and hung up.

Lydia slowly turned around to face a very confused Allison. "Please tell what was that," the brunette said.

She took a deep breath, preparing herself for what was coming. "Well... we are dating."

Allison's eyes grew even wider, even if it didn't seem to be possible. "You... Dating as in boyfriend and girlfriend? Like dating, _dating_? As a couple?"

"You just described dating like three times, but yes, we are."

"Lydia Martin!" she practically yelled. "Twenty-four hours ago you absolutely hated that guy, and now you tell me that you're dating him? What the fuck? What. The..."

"Ok, Allison, calm down," Lydia interrupted her, placing her hands on her shoulders and leading her friend to the living room. "Just let me explain..."

"Please, explain," she whispered.

"I will," she said with a calming voice. "We met at the Lake House, and we talked. Turned out that all the things he said were a lie, because he didn't think he was good for me. I told him to shut up, 'cause I never really stopped liking him, and he likes me too." She smiled softly at the memory.

Allison took her hand and looked at her with a serious face. "Look, if you're happy, I'm happy. For both of you. But if he ever hurts you, I swear to God..."

"I don't think that will be necessary, but thanks," she said, rolling her eyes. "Now please tell me what happened to you last night."

Allison smiled and sat straighter. "Ok... Where do I start."

"From the start," she said, folding her legs under herself.


	19. Dinner

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! This chapter's been ready for a while, but my internet connection sucks and I've been really busy with school, so sorry if it took so long...  
> Anyway, hope you guys like it!

Even after two months dating, Lydia could never get used to the way he looked at her.

Stiles was waiting for her, as always, when she parked her car on her usual spot. It made her wonder what time did he get up. She walked towards him with large steps, hurrying to close the space between them. He didn't take one step forward; he just stayed where he was, leaning on his car with his arms folded on his chest and a smile on his lips, amber eyes watching her come closer.

He had already told her he loved to see her walk.

He only moved when she was inches away from him. He put his hands on both sides of her face and finally lock their lips. He kissed her slowly and softly enough to take her breath away and make her head spin. His fingers were hot against her skin, its warmth going down her body like lava.

Lydia also couldn't get used to this feeling.

"Hey," she murmured when they broke apart.

"Hey," he said back and then frowned. "Jeez, how cliche is that?"

"I don't care," she said, getting on her tip toes and stealing a peck.

"So..." he said, laying his arms around her shoulders and walking to the building. "Do you have plans for tonight?"

Lydia smiled expectantly at him. "No..."

"Damn it," he cursed, almost too low for her to hear.

"What?" She asked.

"My aunt wants to meet you," he said with an unpleasant voice.

"You just told her you were dating now?"

Stiles shrugged. "She figured out."

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

_Stiles had his head buried in a bowl of cereal as Melissa watched him eat. Actually, she'd been watching him for weeks._

_"So, when will I meet her?" She asked, breaking the silence and making the boy in front of her almost choke with his cereal._

_"What?" He asked, startled._

_"Your girlfriend, when will I meet her?" Melissa held her mug and took a sip of her cup, wishing she had a camera to capture the expression on his face._

_"Wait, how did you..."_

_"I'm not blind, Stiles," she said. "You changed, a lot, and that only means one thing."_

_"What do you mean I... changed?" He asked._

_Melissa settled her mug. "Well, you're taking more showers, waking up earlier, you smile looking at your phone, and once I heard to singing. Singing, Stiles! You want me to keep going?"_

_"I could be using drugs," he murmured, staring at his bowl._

_"But you're not," she said. "So, what is her name?"_

_Stiles sighed. "Lydia."_

_"That is a lovely name," she said, smiling. "You should like her a lot."_

_"I do," he said. Then he frowned when he lifted his eyes and saw his aunt smiling at him. He wondered if he sounded like an idiot. "Stop it."_

_"Not sorry." She got up, taking her mug and his bowl with her. "What don't you bring her tonight for dinner?"_

_"Ahn..."_

_"Come on, I want to meet the girl that stole my nephew's caged heart."_

_"_ Ugh _," he moaned, rubbing his face._

_"She must be really pretty."_

_"She is," he said, and Melissa laughed. He looked up, finding her smiling at him again._ Damn it, Stiles! _"Stop it!"_

_"Bring her tonight?" She said as he stormed out of the kitchen._

_"Yeah, ok," he yelled as he went out the door._

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Do _you_ want me to have dinner your place tonight?," Lydia asked when they got to her locker.

Stiles leaned on the lockers and sighed. "You're asking me if I want to have an awkward dinner with my aunt? Of course, why not?"

She rolled her eyes and opened her locker. "Stop whining. I'm sure your aunt is really nice and I am looking forward to meet her."

He groaned. "Really?"

"Yeah, really," she said, stepping closer to him. "We can go to the movies after that."

"Are you trying to seduce me into this?"

"Is it working?" She asked with a low voice.

"Yes," he responded, leaning in to kiss her.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Ok, what would you wear for a dinner with your boyfriend's aunt?" Lydia asked out loud, analyzing her wardrobe.

"It's funny because your boyfriend's aunt is my boyfriend's mom," Allison's voice came from the phone on the bed.

"Allison," Lydia said, rolling her eyes. Allison and Scott started dating on the same day she and Stiles did, but even then they seemed to be a few relationship steps ahead of them. Lydia could only suppose they were really soul mates, given the fact that they had basically fallen in love with each other at first site.

"Sorry," Allison said. "Just put one of your thousand beautiful dresses and I'm sure you'll look lovely."

"Thanks," she said. She picked a dark blue flower dress and black heels and started getting ready. When she finished it, she ended up pacing nervously around her room.

"Are you nervous?" Allison asked.

"No."

"I can hear your footsteps."

"I..." She heard someone knocking on the door and her mom stepped in. "Hi mom."

"Hey, darling. You look so pretty," she said, hugging her daughter. "Stiles is a lucky boy."

Lydia smiled softly. "Thanks mom," she said. "He's also _late_."

As is was its cue, the three of them heard the doorbell ring. Allison and Natalie gave Lydia their goodbyes and good lucks before she grabbed her purse and ran downstairs. She opened the front door and met Stiles standing on the doorway with his hands on his pockets.

She did never got used to the way he looked at her.

Stiles stared at her for three whole seconds with his mouth hanging a bit open before saying with a dumb voice: "Hi."

Lydia laughed and closed the door behind her. "Hi. You ok?"

"Yes," he answered, still sounding dumb. He shook his head. "Sorry. You just look really beautiful."

She blushed. "Thank you. You're looking beautiful, too." And he did, with a blue sweater, jeans and he usual sneakers. It was amazing how the simple clothes he wore made him look like a model.

Stiles shrugged. "I thought I should look good to have dinner at my own house."

Lydia rolled her eyes and pushed him towards the car. "I thought I told you to stop whining. It's too late now." He groaned as he opened the door for her, which she thanked with a smile. They drove to his house and in ten minutes they were at the front door.

"We're here!" He called when they entered the house.

Melissa came from the kitchen, only stopping to threw the apron she was using aside, with a huge smile and arms open.

"You must be Lydia," she said, hugging the girl tightly. "It's so good to finally meet you!"

"Me too," Lydia said, smiling.

"Stiles, you didn't tell me she was so pretty," she said. "Actually, you did." She gave him a wink, making Stiles roll his eyes. Lydia laughed.

"That's nice. Can we eat?" He said.

"Oh, sure!" she said, grabbing Lydia by the shoulders and leading her to the dining room. Melissa looked behind her to give Stiles conspiratory smile. "Well done," she mouthed.

Stiles rolled his eyes again, thing he knew he would be doing a lot that night, and followed her.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Two hours later, Lydia didn't remember why she was so nervous.

They had ended eating several minutes ago, but the conversation never did. Melissa wanted to know more about her, and Lydia answered happily to her questions. Stiles watched the girls talk taking sips from his glass of whine.

"I'm gonna get drunk," he murmured to himself. Lydia and Melissa laughed again at something he didn't listen. He picked his phone from his pocket and checked the time. "So, Lydia, we should go now if we still want to catch that movie," he said.

She opened her mouth to say something, but Melissa did first. "Of course, I held you guys here for too long. You should go enjoy your Friday night."

Stiles jumped from his chair, happy to be finally leaving. "Nice. I'll just go to the bathroom real quick, then we're leaving," he said and left.

"He really likes you," Melissa said when they heard the door close.

Lydia smiled softly. "I know. I really like him too."

Melissa grabbed her hand. "I'm glad he found you. There was a time I thought he would be lost forever," she said with a sad voice. "You know, after the accident..."

"Accident?" Lydia asked, caugh by surprise. "What... accident?"

"The accident with his parents," she answered. She looked at Lydia's haunted face and her eyes grew wide. "Wait, he didn't tell you?"

"Ready to go?" Stiles asked entering the room, making them both jump.

"Y-yes," she responded, which was hard because of the sudden lump on her throat, and got up. They walked to the door, where Melissa gave her one less hug, followed by a concerned look, which matched with Lydia's confused mind.

What was Stiles not telling her?


	20. Speak

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my God, i've been wanting to write this chapter since I started this fic!! Hope you guys like it!

"Hm, I think you missed the way to the movies," Lydia commented, looking through her window.

"I know," he said. "I'm taking you somewhere else."

She lifted one eyebrow. "Really? Can I know where?"

Stiles shot her a smile. "You'll see."

They drove until the houses were replaced by trees. Good thing that half of the city was taken by the reserve, so it didn't mean they were leaving the city or anything. It was also a good thing that he owned a Jeep, because Lydia was almost sure that her car wouldn't work very well on the instable uphill.

When Stiles stopped the car, she looked at her window and saw nothing but trees. "Where are we?" She asked.

"Come and see," he said, unbuckling his belt and leaving the car. Lydia hesitated for one second before following him.

Stiles was standing a few steps ahead of her, right on the edge of a cliff she hadn't noticed before. She hesitated again, being scared of heights and all, but she didn't think twice when he offered her his hand. She grabbed it and took the steps to stand next to him.

And then she was amazed.

"Stiles, this is beautiful," she said, smiling widely. From where they were standing, they could see the entire town beneath them. Every street and every house, so small it seemed to be a scale model. They watched the tiny lights appear as the sun hid.

"How did you find this place?" She asked, mesmerized.

"I got lost once, so I wandered until I got here," he responded.

"What were you doing in the woods?"

He shrugged. "Just wandering. I like to be in the woods." Lydia lifted one eyebrow at him, but he just shrugged again. "Hold on a sec," he said, letting go of her hand and walking to the car. He came back a few seconds before holding a blanket, which he carefully placed on the ground. "It would be a picnic if we haven't eaten so much chicken."

Lydia smiled. "It's perfect Stiles. Thank you," she said, sitting down.

He laid down beside her, arms under his head. She stood sitting, looking at him. Even in the dim light, he was still beautiful. In that moment, she loved him more than anything, and anyone. She just wanted to lay down beside him, and stay like that until the sun comes up, or until forever.

But there was something keeping her from doing this. Something that's been bugging her since they left his house.

_Wait, he didn't tell you?_

Somehow, she couldn't let go of these words. They shouldn't bother her so much, but they did. Looking at him, she didn't know what could lie beneath the calm surface. _He didn't tell you?_ No, he didn't, and she was scared to know how much. What Stiles did tell her was that he wasn't good and that he had done some fucked up things in his life. She accepted it, thinking that he could even be a little overdramatic. Knowing that he could have told her nothing but the truth scared her. It was selfish, she knew that, and she hated it. Everyone has the right to keep secrets.

But she didn't want to lay down beside a man she didn't know.

"Hey, are you ok?" He asked, pulling her out of her reveries.

Lydia hurried to put a smile on her face. "Of course I am."

Stiles clearly didn't buy it. "What's wrong?" He asked, sitting down and look straight into her eyes.

She shook her head. "Really, it's nothing..."

"Lydia."

She bit her lip and dropped her gaze to her hands, trying to decide if she should or not bring that up. They've been together for so little time, she didn't want to be the suspicious girlfriend that requires to know every detail of her partner's life. She wondered if he would be mad at her, and that thought made her shiver.

"Lydia," he called again. She lifted her eyes to meet his amber ones. "Tell me what's wrong."

Lydia took a deep breath. "Me and Melissa were talking and... she mentioned an accident with... " She stopped talking. The color had vanished from Stiles' face, and his expression made her want to slap herself. She covered her face with her hands. "Damn it, I'm so so sorry! We're not gonna talk about this, I promise. I just... Ugh, I'm so sorry!"

"Lydia," he called with a strangely calm voice. "It's ok."

She shook her head. "No, it's not! I shouldn't have brought this up like this, I'm so sor..."

"Lydia, stop," he interrupted her. Stiles grabbed her hands from her face, but she still couldn't look up. "Look at me."

She hesitated, but when she lifted her gaze, she was surprised about what she saw. His eyes were not red and angry as she thought they would be. His honey orbs were extremely calm, and so was his face. "I'm sorry," she murmured.

He shook his head. "Don't be."

"I just..." She sighed. "I just realized I didn't know much about you, and..."

"I know, you're right," he said. "I've never been an... open person. I've never felt comfortable to talk about my life to anyone." He gave her a small smile. "But it's different with you. I feel like I can talk to you about anything."

Lydia smiled and held his hand tighter. "You can. I'm always here for you."

He kissed her hand and looked at their intertwined fingers for a while before start talking. "I was fourteen. I was in the car with my parents when a drunk driver hit us. We fell off a cliff... it was pretty bad. The doctors said I was lucky I survived. I didn't think so."

"After the night of the accident I just... I just wished a wasn't the one to survive. There wasn't one night that I didn't wish I was dead. It didn't help that I spent the next five months at the hospital. I felt like an animal, trapped, sedated. I simply hated everyone and every second I spent there, so I didn't say a word the whole time. As it wasn't enough of torture, when I left the hospital they made me move to Beacon Hills to live with my mother's sister, Melissa. Now I know that that was the best option, since I would have a home and everything, but my fourteen year old self saw that as a conspiracy.

At that point, Lydia had an enormous lump on her throat and had to fight back the tears burning in her eyes. Stiles didn't look at her; he kept his eyes on the horizon, the calm expression still on his face.

"You wouldn't recognize me if you met me when I got here. I was a walking vegetable. I didn't react to anything, didn't like anything. I didn't eat, barely speak. Well, I had lost both of my parents, and moved to a strange new city. I was practically drowning on my own misery.

"Then I got sick of myself. I got sick of feeling sad, got sick of the pity. I didn't want to be the poor orphan anymore. That's why my fifteen years old self wad rad as fuck." He let out a humorless laugh. "I started going to bars, met some bad people, did some bad stuff. I drank too much, smoked too much, and not only cigarettes. I got caught by the police a few times, but being an underage, they only kept me for one night. I lived my life on the edge.

"Scott was always trying to bring me back to my senses. He kept telling me that I was destroying myself, that one day something really bad would happen to me. I didn't listen, until it happened. I got stabbed in a bar fight." Stiles must have heard Lydia's gasp, because he caressed her hand and shot her a reassuring smile. "Don't worry, I'm fine now. But that was everything I need to get my life right. That was when I saw how tired Melissa was. I realized that she had lost someone too, and won a fucked up nephew to take care of. She just didn't deserve that. So when Scott left for college, I slowed down. For me and for her.

Tears fell now freely from her green eyes. The lump in her throat was still there, along with the dull ache that came from all the crying. Lydia looked at him as it was the first time, wondering how so much could lie under a beautiful surface like that.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, unable to get her voice any more higher, leaning in to hug him. Stiles held her close as she buried her face on the crook of his neck. "I'm so sorry."

"It's ok," he whispered back, stroking her hair softly. He laughed lightly. "This actually feels pretty good."

"What?" She asked, voice muffled by his hoodie.

"Speak up," he said. "Thank you."

She leaned back to look at him. She reached out to touch his face, resting her palm on his cheek. "Thank you," she said. He leaned in to kiss her, resting his hand on her neck as hers go up to his hair, tangling her fingers. They kissed slowly and passionately, until they're out of breath. When they broke apart, they fell back to their hug. Lydia laid her head on his chest, hearing the sound of his beating heart. Stiles kissed her hair gently and held her close.

"I love you," she murmured, too low for him to hear.


	21. Bad Love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hellooo everyone! How are you guys doing? Ok so, this chapter is... different from everything I've ever written. I actually wanst planning on writting it at all, but the idea just popped into my mind and I was like "damn... this is good". I don't know if I did it right, let me know what you think!
> 
> WARNING: IF YOU DON'T FEEL COMFORTABLE WITH ANY KIND OF VIOLENCE, YOU SHOULD PROBABLY SKIP THIS ONE :)

"I hate this movie," Stiles groaned. 

"It's been only twenty minutes," Lydia said, rolling her eyes. 

"I know, I already hate it," he said, shoving a handful of popcorn in his mouth. 

It was a Saturday evening and they were curled up on her couch after hours studying. Since there was nothing good on TV, Lydia somehow convinced Stiles to watch The Notebook, her favorite movie ever. Now Stiles regret being such a good boyfriend, because he absolutely hated chick flick romances. 

He groaned again. 

"Seriously, what is wrong with this movie?" She asked, annoyed, raising her head from where it was lying on his chest and facing him. "It's a beautiful love story, that everyone should watch and appreciate."

He wrinkled his nose. "I'm just not into love stories," he said, eating more popcorn. 

Lydia sat down, leaning on her elbow. "I thought we were living a love story," she said. 

"This is different."

She lifted an eyebrow. "How is this any different?"

"Well, I don't know if this shit is real," he said, gesturing to the tv. "I don't know if there was actually a rich chick that fell in love with a poor guy, and still loved him after seven years of war."

She shot him a skeptical smile. "Have you watched it?"

"Yeah, whatever," he hurried to say. "The point is: What we have, this I believe. That's why is different. I'm living it, so I know is real."

Lydia smiled and kissed him on the cheek. "You can be really romantic for someone who's not romantic."

Stiles smiled back, furrowing his brow. "This sentence didn't make any sense, but thank you."

"And I'm glad to be the one that made you believe in love," she said. She leaned in and kissed him briefly, before leaning back and pursing her lips. "Wait, am I the one?"

Stiles frowned, confused. "Hm... Yes?"

She rolled her eyes. "What I meant was am I your first girlfriend?"

He lifted his eyebrows. "Am I your first boyfriend?"

"I asked first."

"Well, technically, yes," he answered. "I had a bunch of one night stands in my life, but nothing serious."

She lifted one eyebrow. "A bunch of?" She asked, almost unbelievably. 

"Hm, yes," he answered carefully. 

"Do I have to worry about unwanted children around the city?" 

Stiles stared blankly at her and didn't say anything for a few seconds. Lydia's eyes went wide and he laughed. "Of course not, I'm not that stupid."

"Damn it, Stiles," she breathed, smacking his arm. 

"Ok, your turn."

"I had one," she said, adjusting herself on the couch. "His name was Jackson, and he was an idiot. Of course I didn't see it back then, I even thought I was in love." She laughed humorlessly and shook her head. "We dated for six months during sophomore year, until he had to move to London. I was miserable until I discovered all the things he did when we were dating. Cheating, basically."

Stiles sat straighter, facing her with intense and dark eyes. "Fucking asshole..." he murmured. 

"Yeah, I know." She rolled her eyes and laid back down, resting her head back on his chest. Stiles' muscles were still tensed. "It's ok," she said, caressing his arm. 

He seemed to calm down a bit, but his eyes were still dark. He shook his head. "I wanna kill him."

"Stiles." She took his hand. "It's ok," she repeated. 

"No, it's not!" He half-yelled, looking at her. "That bastard should never have hurt you. Why on earth did he even think of other girls if he had you. That makes me so fucking... mad."

Lydia smiled, but he was too angry to notice. Stiles darted his eyes and stared at the nothing, lips together in a thin line. "If I ever go to London, I swear to God..."

She silenced him with a kiss. She placed one hand on his neck, feeling his muscles relax under her touch. "I love it when you get all protective," she murmured against his lips. He smiled slightly and leaned in to kiss her. 

These moments, when they were so close they could melt into each other, and she felt like her heart could explode, were the moments when she wanted to scream she loved him. She could do it. She should do it. But why did she hesitate so much? Was she afraid he wouldn't say it back, or just wanting him to say it first? Her mind ignored her unknown fears, of course, and insisted to yell I love you, I love you, I love you, until the words finally slip from her mouth. 

Stiles twisted places, hovering on her and kissing her deeply, making her mind lost all its thoughts. She twisted her fingers in his hair and gripped his shoulder tightly with the other hand, trying to pull him impossibly closer. His lips moved to her neck, kissing and biting it, making Lydia sigh in contentment and bit her lip. 

Her mind was all incoherent thoughts, but she could form only three words: I love you. 

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Are sure you want me to go?" Stiles asked, burying his face in the crook of her neck. 

Lydia closed her eyes and sighed. "No, I don't. But it's a school night and you're gonna make me late."

"I won't," he said, raising his head. She lifted one eyebrow. "Okay, that was one time. You can't hold that against me forever."

"You know that I hate missing classes, so yes, I can," she said. Stiles rolled his eyes. "Come on, we'll see each other in a few hours."

"You don't know that," he said, forcing his voice to sound serious and obscure. Lydia punched his arm. "Ouch! Now you're beating me and kicking me out?"

"You shouldn't say stuff like that," she said. "It's bad luck."

"Ok, I'm sorry," he said, putting his arms around her waist and pulling her close. Lydia rolled her eyes, but stood on her tiptoes to kiss him. Stiles leaned in, deepening the kiss and making her want him to stay. 

She broke the kiss, pushing his shoulder lightly. "Go!" she laughed. Stiles opened the front door, making his best sad face. "See you tomorrow."

"See ya," he said back, leaving and closing the door behind him. 

Lydia sighed and turned around, a smile still on her lips. She really wanted him to stay, mostly because sleeping in his arms was one of the things she loved the most. Being smart as she was, she could miss how many classes she wanted, but that was one of the things she hated the most. Even if Stiles was really smart too, they couldn't be so irresponsible. 

She went to her room and started gathering all the books and notebooks they left around the place. A few minutes later, she heard the doorbell ring. 

"Stiles," she said, rolling her eyes, but stopping what he was doing and hurrying down stairs. "I can't believe you..." she said as she opened the door, but interrupted herself as soon as she saw the person standing there. 

He hasn't changed even a bit. His blonde hair was still perfectly combed with not even a strand out of place, which always made her wonder how he did that and still make his hair look natural. The smug smile she once loved, but learned to hate, was still on his face, putting him on his best I'm-better-than-everyone behavior. Not that he put too much afford on it; that was just how much of a jerk he was. 

"Jackson?" Lydia gasped. 

He flashed her a perfect white smile that once made her swoon, but now made her sick. "Hey babe."

"Wha-what are you doing here?" She asked. 

Jackson leaned on the doorframe. "Come on, babe, let me in a we'll..."

"Don't call me baby," she interrupted him dryly, the surprise being quickly replaced by disgust. "What the fuck are you doing here?"

Jackson stood straight, apparently not expecting her reaction. "What..."

"Talk." Lydia crossed her arms, making it clear the he wasn't going any further. 

"Well, I came back from London and went to visit you. Turned out that you moved, to another town, without telling me!" He huffed a laugh. 

She raised one cynical eyebrow. "And since when do I own you an explanation about my life?"

"Since we started dating, obviously," he said, matter-of-fact. 

This time, Lydia was the one who laughed. "Why obviously?" She asked. "Last time I checked, we were done. For good."

Jackson furrowed his brow. "Done?" He asked, confused. "I don't remember breaking up with you..."

"You moved to another town!" She nearly screamed. His presence was getting on her nerves, and she clenched her fists to not hit him. 

"So?"

"So? Oh my God." Lydia closed her eyes and rubbed them in attempt to calm down. 

"Yes, Lydia! How many couples managed to keep a long distance relationship? They don't just break up because one of them..." 

"I cried for you every day, Jackson," she cut him off. "I was sure we were meant to be together. It didn't even bother me that I was the only one to contact." She shook her head, smiling bitterly. "Did you really think I was stupid enough to never find out what you did when we were together?"

"Lydia..."

"I wasn't. I wasn't even that hard to find out what a great fucker you are," she said, her voice full of disgust. "I don't give a shit about what brought you here. Just leave me the fuck alone."

She stepped back and started closing the door when Jackson placed his hand on it, pulling it back hard. Lydia tried to push, but he was obviously stronger than her. She stumbled back as he entered the house, swinging the door close. 

"Is it because of that guy?" He half asked, walking slowly in her direction. Lydia kept stepping back, trying to keep the distance. "I saw him, Lydia. Who is he?"

"That's none of your fucking..."

"Yes, it is!" He yelled, making her jump. "It is if he's trying to separate us!"

"There is no us!" she yelled back. "We are done for years!"

He let out an angry growl, like an animal, and threw the jar of flowers that sat on the kitchen table on the wall. Lydia gasped, stepping back until her back hit the wall. 

"We are not done," he said, his voice sounding low and threatening. "We are not done, Lydia. You're still my girlfriend, we're still a couple. Couples fight, right?"

"What are you talking about?" She asked, her voice slightly tremulous. 

"We'll get through this. It's not a big deal. We'll be ok, we'll be ok," he murmured, more to himself. Lydia watched, wondering if that was how someone who had lost his mind looked like. And she didn't have to be a genius to notice something was wrong with him. 

"Tell me who he is, Lydia," he said, stepping closer to her. "Tell me who he is so I can fix this. I'll tell him we are happy together, I'm sure he will leave you alone..."

"He is my boyfriend," she said firmly. 

Jackson stopped and looked at her with a blank expression. "But I am your boyfriend."

"You're nothing to me," she hissed. 

"Don't say that!" he yelled, closing the gap between them. She glued her back against the wall, turning her head to the side as he reached out to touch her face. "Why are you talking to me like that?" He asked softly. 

"Don't touch me," she said through clenched teeth. 

"You love me, Lydia," he said, caressing her cheek. "You love me and that's why I came back. I need you."

"I don't give a shit," she hissed. "I never loved you, Jackson. I thought I did, but that was until I realized the worthless piece of shit you are."

His hands went from her face to her neck, holding too tight to be gentle. His eyes stared at her, his blue orbs burning with anger. "You're wrong. You loved me. And you'll love me again."

Lydia shook her head, pushing him away from her with all her strength. Jackson stumbled back, surprise running across his features, being quickly replaced by anger. He started walking towards her again, and she hurried to kitchen, where she grabbed a knife from the drawer. She pointed it to him, making him stop. 

"Get out of my house or I'll call the police," she threatened. 

"I'm leaving," he said, taking a step towards her. "But you're coming with me."

"I'm not kidding, Jackson," she said, stepping away from him. "If you take one more step I will..."

"What? You'll stab me?" His laugh made her shiver. The smile was suddenly gone from his face, and he grabbed the hand that was holding the knife, trying to make her drop it. Lydia fought with him, pushing and pulling her hand from his grip. With a jolt, the blade cut his cheek. Jackson took two steps back, touching the blood on his face. He looked perplexed, but Lydia knew what was coming. He was never one of the calmest people. 

She ran to the stairs, in an attempt to reach the safety of her room, but he was faster, grabbing her arm and making her spin around. 

"Where do you think you're going?" He asked, pulling her. 

"Let go of me!" she yelled, struggling. She slapped, punched and scratched everything piece of him she could reach. He fought with her, grabbing her arms to make her stop. "Help! Help!" she screamed as loud as she could, but soon her mouth was covered by his hand. She bit his finger until she tasted blood. He took a step back, screaming in pain. She took advantage of it and rushed to the stairs. 

"You bitch!" he hissed, going for her. 

Lydia had already climbed half of the steps when she felt her fingers brushing her ankle. She kicked and hit something, maybe his nose. She heard him swear. She reached the floor and ran to her bedroom, but he grabbed her arm before she could reach the door. She screamed in pain, sure it was going to leave a mark. 

Ignoring her struggles, Jackson carried her and threw her on his shoulder. "I won't hurt you if you just..."

"Let me go!",she screamed, kicking the air and punching his back. He held her legs tighter and started walking towards the stairs. 

Everything happened too fast. Lydia bent her leg and hit him hard on the stomach. Jackson let go of her, bending over. She pushed him away, but she hadn't noticed how close they were from the stairs. She took a step back and the world changed the position. Losing her balance, she fell down the stairs, hitting every step all the way down. Her head hit the ground hard and she felt numb. She only heard Jackson screaming her voice before everything went completely dark.


	22. Wounded Creature

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello guys!! Omg, sorry it took so long for me to post this chapter. My life is a mess, I doing a lot of studying and reading... I really didn't have time to write and post. But, better late than never! Hope you guys like it :)

The hum of a car engine was the only sound she could hear before opening her heavy eyes. At first, while they were adjusting to the darkness, Lydia couldn't tell where she was, and it scared her. She was laying on a comfortable surface, maybe leather. Backseat, her mind guessed. She sat down, ignoring the burning pain that took over her body.

"Morning, sunshine!" Jackson's voice greeted her.

"Where are we going?" She asked with a low, tired voice. Talk made her head hurt even more.

"We're going home," he said, turning to give her a bright smile.

Lydia closed her eyes. "Jackson..."

"Shh, it's gonna be ok," he said. "I get you're not feeling well. Just go back to sleep."

"I'm not tired, you idiot," she hissed, adjusting herself on the seat. "I fell down the stairs because of you. I could be _dead_."

He let out a small laugh, obviously trying to lighten the mood. "That would suck."

"You should have called 911. You shouldn't have moved me like that, you could have caused permanent damage..."

"I didn't have time for that, ok?" He cut her off. "If I took you to the hospital you would've escaped, right? I couldn't have that."

She sighed and rubbed her eyes. "What do you want from me, Jackson?"

"I want you," he responded, staring at her trough the rear view mirror. "I want us."

"I told you there's no us anymore," she said. "If you came back for this..."

"I came back because I lost everything," he said. "The police discovered some shit my dad was doing and got him on trial. I know he won't get away with that. My mom had a nervous breakdown and I'm broke. I came back because you're everything I have right now, and I need you. I need you, Lydia."

Lydia stayed in silence for a whole minute, letting what he said sink in. In another situation, his story would have affected her. She would have been sorry for him, even pitied him. But, in that moment, it did nothing to her. The only thing she could think was 'that's not my problem'. She couldn't care less. But she was smart enough to not say that out loud. Lydia know that, if she wanted to get away, she would have to play along.

She needed a plan.

"I'm so sorry that happened to you," she said, her voice full of fake pity. She had always been a good liar, so it wasn't hard to make him believe in her.

"It's not your fault," he said. "But I have a plan, and everything will work out fine."

"What's the plan, then?"

Jackson turned to her and smiled. "We'll go back to Palmville and start over. Find a nice place to live, finish high school and find jobs... Don't think I'll be the only one working." He laughed.

Lydia gulped, but was quick to put a smile on her face. She wanted to cry and say mean things to him at the same time. She wanted to hit him and run away. She wanted to hurt him. But instead of saying all the things she wanted, she just said:

"That's nice."

Jackson nodded. "Yes, it is."

"But can we at least find a place to stay the night?" She suggested with a very controlled voice. "It's dangerous to drive at night."

He analyzed her, searching for any evidence that she was planning something. Lydia stayed still, looking at him with innocent eyes. Damn, she was good at this. Finding nothing, he sighed. "Okay."

She let out a breath she didn't know she was holding and relaxed her muscles, sinking further on the seat. She closed her eyes and leaned her head on the cold surface of the window, silently praying that her plan worked out. She was in pain, and she wanted to go home. Nothing else mattered.

She felt the car slowing down, and she opened her eyes to see they were pulling out at a motel. There was also a twenty-four hour dinner and grocery shop. They parked beside a giant truck that must have brought the equally big men that were now eating at the dinner. Lydia wondered if they could help her somehow, maybe by calling the police of beating Jackson to death.

"Good thing there's a gas station too. We were almost empty," he said, pulling her out of her reveries. Lydia ignored the fact that probably meant they should be really far away from home, and smiled.

He told her to stay in the car while he did the check in. She waited for him to step away from the car and started a frantic search in the car for something she could use. Anything that could at least hurt him, make him bleed. She also ignored the fact that she was hoping he had a gun in the car, something that could be easily used against her. She smiled and cheered internally when she found his phone in the cup holder. Either his madness had made him stupid, or he thought she was stupid, because leaving your phone behind was certainly something you shouldn't do when kidnapping someone. She hid the device on her bra and leaned back. Her getaway plan had to work, one way or another.

Jackson tapped on the window, gesturing her to come out. Lydia took a deep breath and left the car, hugging herself when the cold breeze hit her bruised skin. He placed a hand on the small of her back and led her to their room. She winced, wondering what the people who saw them would think. Happy teenager couple who ran away to live their forbidden love? Maybe that's what he wanted them to think. Lydia rolled her eyes and subtly stepped away from his touch.

"Okay, here we are," Jackson said, opening the door and stepping aside to let her pass. She looked around the room. It was simple, with one bed, a small bathroom and some furniture. She let out an internal laugh when she realized he had the intention to share the bed. "Now that you're settled, I'll go fill the tank."

"Do you mind buying some pain killers?" She asked, partially to buy her some more time, and partially because she really needed them.

"Sure. I'll be right back." He leaned in to give her a kiss on her cheek. She did her best to hide her disgusted face.

Jackson left the room and closed the door behind him. Then she heard a click. He had locked her in. Motherfucker, she thought.

Lydia sat on the bed and grabbed the cell phone from her bra. With shaky hands, she dialed the first number that came to her mind, calling the first person she definitely needed and pressed the device against her ear. Pick up, pick up, pick up, she whispered when it took too long for her liking.

" _Hello?_ "

"Stiles?" She said, almost crying at the sound of his voice.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The sound of his phone ring made Stiles jump out of his sleep. He rubbed his eyes and whined when the pack of chips that rested on his lap hit the floor. Yawning, he searched for his phone that was somewhere on the couch. He didn't recognize the number on the screen.

"Hello?"

"Stiles?" He heard Lydia's voice on the other side. He immediately sat straighter, suddenly awake like someone had thrown cold water on his face.

"Lydia? Is everything ok?" It didn't even cross his mind that she may want him back at her house. Something on her voice wasn't right; her hushed tone, the hint of fear.

"No," she cried. There was so much she wanted to tell him in just one second, she wished he could just read her mind. She took a deep breath to straighten her thoughts and started speaking. "Jackson came back. Some things happened in London and he said I was the only thing he had left... He wants us to go back to Palmville and start over. "

"Wait, what?" Stiles nearly shouted. He had gotten up when she said her ex-boyfriend's name, but the rest of it had him paralyzed. "He _kidnapped_ you?"

"Yes," she sobbed. "Stiles, I'm scared."

Her fragile voice woke his senses. With a wave of adrenaline and anger on his blood, he frantically searched for his car keys, throwing in the air everything on his way. "Where are you? Is Jackson there?" He asked, grabbing his keys and leaving the house, without even grabbing a coat or turning off the tv. He needed to see her now more than anything.

"M-motel California of something like that. We're staying the night," she answered. "Jackson is out for a little bit. I stole his phone."

"I know where that is," he said, turning the key on the ignition. "Are you hurt?"

Lydia hesitated. She knew she probably shouldn't tell him about the stairs episode, or else he would be possessed. She knew him. "No... I mean, yes, but I'm ok."

Stiles froze again. "Did he hurt you?"

"Stiles..."

" _I'm gonna kill him_ ," he murmured, pressing the gas pedal with his foot.

"Stiles!" The loud sound of the car motor told her that he was already driving. Fast. "Stiles, please be careful. Call the police."

"Ok, I will." Stiles sighed, staring at the road ahead of him with intensity, wishing that if he focused hard enough he would space-travel straight to her. "Lydia?"

"Yes," she whispered, unable to set her voice any higher.

"Don't worry, ok?" He kept his tone steady, knowing that stress was the last thing she would need. "Everything is gonna be fine. We'll be together tonight. I promise."

Lydia closed her eyes, absorbing his words silently as a quiet tear fell down her eye. Her heart was heavy on her chest and she felt like breathing was harder, like she couldn't get enough air without him. "Okay." Was all that she could say.

She jumped when she heard heavy footsteps on the wooden floor outside the room. "He's here," she whispered, ending the call. She held the device tightly, wanting that it became so small she could swallow it and pretend nothing happened. She tried to keep a calm face as he entered the room, wiggling a plastic bag on his hand.

"Hey, I got your..." he started saying, but stopped himself. He stared at her with icy eyes, his face becoming a stone made version of him. "Is that my phone?" He asked after a few seconds of silence.

"Y-yes, you dropped it on your car and I found it and..." she said, her voice dying before it reached the end of the sentence. He wasn't believing in her. He knew she was lying. The stare he gave to her hand was so hard it burned her skin. She held her breath.

"Get up," he murmured.

"What?" She asked, frowning.

" _Get. Up_." He commanded. His eyes finally left the spot they were staring at and bored into hers. They were filled with so much anger that Lydia could almost see the red. "We're leaving."

She shook her head, feeling incredibly small compared to his anger. "L-leaving? I thought..."

"I said get up!" He yelled, this time taking two large steps towards her. Taking the phone off her hand, he clenched his hand around her arm and forced her to get up. "Do you think I'm fucking stupid?" He yelled at her face. "I know you called him, you bitch! Did you think you could _lie_ to me?"

Lydia closed her eyes and sobbed out loud, not even bothering to keep her tears from falling. She wanted to curl herself and cry like the world was gonna end. Jackson was going to hurt her. More. So, being the wounded little creature she was, the only thing left for her was to beg. "Jackson... please. Just don't.. _please_..."

"You are not going back to him," he hissed, every word echoing on her bones.

With that, he dragged her out of the room, holding onto her so hard it could be already bruised. Lydia screamed and struggled, but he tangled his free and on the root of her hair, making her squeal. All the fuss caught the attention of one of the big men, who was fueling his truck.

"Hey!" he called. "What the hell are you doing?"

Jackson stopped and looked around, finding that now not only the man, but his friends and all the employees were staring at them. He let go of her hair, holding her by the arm like a raggedy doll. "That's none of your fucking business."

"Let her go," the man said, stepping closer. Jackson, probably sensing the trouble he was about to get into, did something no one expected. With a quick movement, he hand flew to his waistband and from there he pulled a gun.

A gun. He had a fucking gun.

"Not a step closer," he yelled, pointing the gun in the guy's direction. Lydia was frozen beside him, watching the scene in front of her with wide eyes.

The man took a step back, hands up in surrender. "Hey man, chill out. You don't wanna do this."

He started walking slowly towards the car, bringing her with him, the gun still pointing. Without one word, he opened the backseat door and pushed her him. Before Lydia could even sit straight, they were already moving.

"Jackson, slow down," she dared say. He was driving so fast that she had her back glued to the seat. It was dark, and if she looked at the window all she could see was a blur. It almost felt like they were time traveling.

"If I slow down, they will catch us," he said. "You shouldn't have done that, Lydia. Look at the mess you've made."

Lydia stared at her with her mouth agape. She couldn't believe he was actually blaming her. She felt her face burn red as she breathed heavily. Her tongue itched to speak, and she didn't bite it this time.

"And why the fuck would that be my fault?" She asked, not bothering to keep it down. "You kidnap me, tell me you're taking me to another town, and expect me to be just ok with it?" She shook her head.

Jackson listened to her silently. "You're just confused, Lydia." He sighed. "We've been separated for too long."

"Wha-"

"You'll see." He nodded, like he was both convincing her and himself. "You'll love me again and it will be just like before. We'll put a rock in the past and start over. You'll see, Lydia, we..."

"Please stop talking," she interrupted him. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to place some kind of mental distance between them, since the physical was impossible. Everything about Jackson disgusted her. The simple idea of being near him disgusted her. She felt like her own anger was going to suffocate her. She sucked the air between her teeth and covered her face with her trembling hands. She wanted to scream. She wanted Stiles. Any kind of contact with him would be a blessing.

"Hey, are you ok?" Jackson asked, looking at her worriedly through the rear view mirror.

"I wanna go home," Lydia whispered.

He smiled softly. "But you are."

"I'm not!" She let out a frustrated sigh. "There are people who care about me in Beacon Hills. People who will miss me. My life is there now, and if you think you can just..."

"You're talking about him."

Lydia took her hands off her face and raised her head. "Yes, I am," she said confidently. "Yes, I'm talking about Stiles, the guy who I'm in love with and for whom I'm coming back when this is over."

Silence takes its place in the car as her words sink in. Lydia does not take her eyes away from him, waiting to see his reaction. She's not sorry for what she said, and she would scream it if she had to. She hoped she had hurt him.

Jackson takes one hand off the steering wheel and slips it into his jean's pocket, pulling his phone off. He starts typing on the screen, not even bothering to look at the road ahead.

"What are you doing?" She asked, watching his movements carefully.

"I think I wanna talk to this boyfriend yours," he said, pressing one more button.

Lydia froze. "Jackson, what..."

He pressed his index finger against his lips, gesturing her to shut up. A few seconds after, he picked up. "Lydia, I'm..." Stiles' voice came out of the speaker.

"Hey, you must me Stiles!" Jackson greeted him excitedly.

Two whole seconds passed before Stiles spoke again. "You fucking..."

"Oh-oh," he interrupted, acting like a mother or a teacher when a kid say a bad word. "So, I heard you and Lydia are... friends." He sent her a knowing look.

Stiles didn't say anything, probably too angry to think of something. Jackson took it as a cue to keep talking. "The thing is, she can't be with you anymore."

"Jackson," she warned, trying to take the phone off his hands.

"What the _fuck_ are you talking about?" Stiles asked.

"Well, she's with me now, so I don't think it's prudent..."

"I will tell you what's not _prudent_ , you filthy bastard..."

"Stiles, don't," she said, worried that he was probably driving while fighting. She also wanted to end the discussion because Jackson didn't have his eyes on the road.

"You heard her, Stiles. She doesn't want you."

"That's not what I... Stiles don't listen to him!"

"You will not get away with this," Stiles hissed. "I will _hunt you down_."

"You won't find us," he said. "I guarantee you that soon Lydia won't even want to see you."

"Stop, Jackson! Stop!" Lydia yelled, leaning forward, trying to reach the phone. He held it higher.

"If you touch one strand of her hair, I swear to God..."

"What? You can't do anything."

"Jackson, look out!" she screamed.

When the deer on the road lifted its head to stare at the headlights, it was already too late. Jackson turned the wheel, trying not to crash, but they were going too fast. And suddenly she felt like there was no gravity. She was floating, weightless, and then everything was gone, dark and silent.

"Lydia!" Stiles called from the other side. A wave of pure fear ran in his veins. It didn't happen. It couldn't have happened. " _LYDIA!_ "


	23. Coming Down

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!!! As I warned you, this chapter took a loong time to be ready. I stuggled a lot writing this because I had to do a lot of research. Anyway, I hope you like it!!

In the seventeen years Stiles lived, he had never felt so angry.

The whole situation was eating him from the inside out, and the not knowing was just taking him to his edge. He couldn't stop blaming himself. He shouldn't have left her alone. He should have been there, to protect her, to keep that psychopath away from her.

Stiles pressed his feet further on the pedal. He never drove so fast, yet he never moved so slow.

He called the police, like she told him to do, and he knew they would want to get there pretty fast. But he wanted to be there first. He wanted to be the one to kick the motel's door open, making them both jump. He wanted to bury his fist into his face one, two, and how many times he could before someone stop him. He wanted to be there when she runs to safety, and that safety would be his arms.

Stiles almost couldn't believe when he heard his voice.

Of course, when his phone rang and he saw the unknown number on the screen, his heart almost jumped from his chest. For a brief second, he wondered if Lydia somehow managed to lock him inside the room, or knock him out, which was even better. But when he heard a male voice, he instantly knew something went wrong. He could hear her voice in the background, begging for them to stop arguing, but he couldn't focus on it. Jackson took over his mind like he was possessed. He never wanted to hurt someone so bad.

But then she yelled, and everything went silent. Stiles swore he heard a crash.

He called for her. When she didn't answer, he called again, desperately. He wanted to hear something, _anything_. He screamed her name and it felt like screaming into the void, he knew there was no one there. He didn't realize when he stopped the car, or when the tears started falling. But instead of just staying there, sitting in the silence, he decides to take action. He dials 911 and don't even let the attendant finish talking.

"There..." he coughed when his voice came out low and hoarse. "There has been an accident..."

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The speed limit became a joke as Stiles drove as fast as he old jeep would let him. The enormous clock above his head was ticking, reminding him that time was passing and he was still far. _  
_

He held his breath as he passed by the said Motel California. That meant he was close, and the fear almost made him stop the car. He only did it when the red and blue lights reached his eyes. He stationed on the side of the road and stumbled out of the car, hurrying to the police car blocked the way.

A tall policeman came to meet him. "You can't go any further, son," he said, but Stiles barely heard him.

In front of him was placed a vision that he would never forget, and that would haunt his dreams forever. What used to be a fancy car now laid on the road as a pile of smashed steel, broken glass and blood. So much blood that it looked like car was bleeding.

Everything was red.

Stiles only noticed he had taken a few steps forward when the policeman's hand pushed him back. "Please step back now."

"No, I... I..." He couldn't focus on the simple task of forming words and speaking them. "M-my girlfriend..."

"Is she involved on the accident?"

"Yeah, she..." Stiles let out a desperate breath and rubbed his face with his trembling hands. " _Shit_."

"Son, can you tell me what happened?" The policeman asked.

"Is she... Is she there yet?" He asked back, lifting his head. "Someone needs to get her _out_!"

"There's nothing we can do... The firemen are on their way..."

"She could be dead by then!" He said, trying to walk past the policeman. "I need to do something!"

He pushed him back again. "Boy, I'll ask you to calm..."

"Don't fucking tell me to calm down!..."

He was about to punch the policeman in the face when he heard the sirens behind them. The firemen came in full speed, stopping by the wrecked car. Stiles watched as they worked to get Lydia and Jackson out, too slowly for his liking. He didn't notice when the ambulance approached. When they lifted her body on a stretcher, he forgot how to breathe.

 _No, no, not now_ , he thought as he sucked the air between his teeth. He wasn't going to have a panic attack. He couldn't. He screamed her name again, hoping she would listen to him this time. They closed the ambulance's door. He screamed again.

If only he could tell her everything was going to be ok.

"Boy?" The policeman called. "I'm gonna need you to tell me everything you know now, ok?"

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx  
 _It's not too late, it's not too late, please God, let it not be too late_. Stiles played this mantra over and over in his head as he drove the hospital.

He wanted to be there with her, hold her hand and tell her everything was going to be ok, even if she couldn't hear. He would say it anyway, until he was sure it's true. Stiles gripped the steering wheel tighter. The fear he felt took him back to when he was a boy. He remembered when he was the one the wake up in a hospital bed, alone. He didn't want this to happen to Lydia. He just had to be there.

He stationed his jeep on the first spot he found in front of the building and ran to the automatic doors. There was an ambulance parked, so that meant they had arrived. Lydia was there. He stumbled inside, when two hands grabbed his arms, making him stop.

"Stiles," a female voice called him.

"Where's Lydia? Where's she?" He asked blindly.

"Stiles, listen to me," she said. He turned his head and found out that it was his aunt looking at him with concerned, sad eyes. "Lydia and the boy just arrived here and went directly to surgery. The only thing we can do now is wait."

Stiles shook his head. He had to see her. Why was she already in surgery? She couldn't be that bad. She couldn't. He sucked a sharp breath, only to realize he couldn't breathe. His mind became foggy, and everything started to spin. _Not... now!_ He thought.

"Stiles," Melissa called, her voice becoming urgent.

"I... I..." The weight of his fear was too heavy on his chest. He closed his eyes and just wished - he wished he hadn't left her house, he wished she hadn't answered the door. Above all, he wished it was _him_ in that room, not her. If only he had this option, trade placed with her, he would do it without a second thought. A tear fell from his eye.

What if it was his fate to loose everyone he loves?

"Shh, Stiles. Shh, she'll be alright," Melissa tried to comfort him.

"I... I can't..." He let out a sob. Melissa held him, smoothing his back while he buried his head on her shoulder. "I can't loose her."

"You won't, darling."

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Time seemed to refuse passing in that place. It could have been hours, or days, Stiles wouldn't know the difference. He sat there, unaware of his surroundings, without eating or drinking anything. He felt full and heavy with his own emotions, which were like bricks tied to him.

He hated hospitals. He had spent enough time in a lifetime in places like this, and he wasn't planning on coming back anytime soon. But now the idea of leaving seemed absurd. And the idea of leaving without her was unthinkable.

Lydia's mother came in the meantime. She asked a thousand questions for everyone, but Stiles let Melissa answer for him. He had told her the whole story before his concern made him too impatient. The woman sat down and cried as he looked away, because that was exactly was he wanted to do.

When the doctor finally came to see him, Stiles didn't know if he wanted to kiss or punch the man. Melissa held his arm anyway, both to support her nephew and search for support. Natalie hurried to talk to him, face still wet from the crying.

"Please, please tell me you have news," she said.

"Yes, I do," the doctor said. "About the boy, he..."

"Nobody gives a fuck about him," Stiles said. "Tell us about Lydia."

"Well, apparently she wasn't using her seatbelt at the time of the accident, which means her situation is more... delicate." Stiles dug his nails in the palm of his hands and held his breath. He didn't want to hear it, he really didn't. He wanted to shut it off, fast forward to when he could finally see her.

"How... delicate?" Natalie asked with a fragile voice.

"She got several bone fractures, and broke one arm and three ribs. She would take a long time to heal these, despite the cuts and bruises all over her body." The doctor took a deep breath and Stiles prepared himself for what was coming. "But now we are more concerned about her head. She had a severe head injury, along with a big internal bleeding. We did what we could to stabilize her, but..."

"What? But what?" Natalie asked.

"She's in a coma. There may be other complications, but we won't know until she wakes up, which can take a few days, or weeks. But we're expecting a fast recovery, given her age." He steps closer to Natalie, who had been crying uncontrollably, and placed one hand on her shoulder. "Your daughter seems to be a strong girl. She will make it." The woman nodded, crying too much to speak. Melissa hugged her.

He didn't doubt it, he knew Lydia's confidence, her attitude and her intelligence made her a strong girl. Part of his mind kept repeating this, telling him that she would make it, that she could do this. But that was a tiny part of his mind, so small he could barely notice it. The main part was a total chaos. Stiles felt like the room was crashing down as he stood there. The walls broke and came down with a loud noise, and then caught fire, becoming ashes. Lydia Martin was dying. The girl he loved was dying.

"Stiles," Melissa called.

He loved her. And now he was losing her. Why did it take so long for him to realize this? It felt like it was stanting in front of him for a long time and he just...

"Stiles?"

He heard when she said it. Back when he had taken her to that cliff for a picnic, the night when he had opened her heart for the first time. He heard her whisper it when they were hugging. At first he tought he was mistaken, but now he was sure. Stiles almost laughed. Was he really that stone cold jerk that couldn't recognize such feeling? Because the desolation he felt definetly wasn't an ordinary feeling. It was something big, so strong that hurt him from the inside out.

Stiles felt someone touch his arm.

"Stiles, please talk to me," Melissa said, pleading.

"I... I..."he mumbled absent mindly. Was there really something to say? He just stood there, staring at the wall with dead eyes, accepting his desolation and letting the room fall down around him.


	24. Restless

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Omg I'm so sorry this took so long, I've been really really busy! I did some research for this chapter, since I dont know a thing about all that hospital stuff (I do watch Grey's Anotomy though). So if something I said is not right, I apologize. Hope you guys like it!  
> p.s.: sorry about any grammar or spelling mistakes!

Time lost its meaning. The nights became days, and the days were as quiet as the nights. The movement around him was blurry. The emergencies, the people with bandages and the ones dressed in white, they all walked like ghosts, faceless. He couldn't tell if he was getting any sleep or not, since his naps were restless and scary, not better than the living nightmare he was in. 

During his time there he was able to presence birth (one really pregnant woman came yelling on a hospital bed, pushed by a nurse and what seemed to be the husband, who yelled along. The three of them were followed by a large group of people, probably the family, carrying huge teddy bears, balloons, and food.), but he could also presence death. It seemed to be happening all the time, every minute in that place meant the loss of a life. He heard the crying, the screaming, the despair. Every day he heard someone else's world falling down. 

It was more than sad. It was depressing. 

Her room was less than a corridor away from him. He was so aware of her closeness could almost feel her presence. He went to her room once, thrilled by the news that he could actually see her. But seeing her lying there, bruised, damaged, with a huge tube coming out of her mouth, which made her chest rise and fall mechanically, and all those wires and machines... that horrified him, made the nightmare even more real. That was an image of Lydia he never, ever wanted to keep. 

So he rather sit in the waiting room and... wait. Wait for news, wait for a change, anything. Stiles had never been a patient person. His hyperactive mind kept him from calming down or relax, which made the waiting room experience be more like a torture. Natalie spent ours with her daughter, talking to her. The doctor said this could help her recover, but Stiles didn't know how. He didn't know how to do that. 

Sometimes, when he got sick of the events on the waiting room, Stiles would wander around the hospital. It did feel like he was walking on a huge maze, because all the hallways looked the same, each one with the same sick tone of green on the walls. No matter how much he walked, he always ended up at her door. Maybe her presence drew him there, but he never entered. One day, for his unpleasant surprise, there was an unexpected guest at her door. He was wearing one of those hospital gowns, and bandages all over his body. He looked impaired and hesitant, probably deciding whether he should or not enter the room. 

Stiles took a deep breath, blood boiling inside his veins. His hands turned into fists, and he only spoke one word throughout his clenched teeth. "Jackson?"

The guy turned to him, and for Stiles, that was enough answer. Without a second thought, he took two large steps towards him and buried his fist in his face. Jackson fell on the floor with a groan of pain, and had no time to react before Stiles jumped on him, throwing one punch after the other. Security came and tried to fight him off, but his anger made Stiles stronger than all of them. 

"Stiles, stop! Get off him, now! Stiles!" He heard his aunt's voice calling for him, but he couldn't stop. He wouldn't. That man was the reason of all that, he was the villain. His blood was a small price for all the pain and suffering he brought, and Stiles was more than happy to make him pay. He wrapped his bloody hands around Jackson's neck and squeezed with all his strength. He watched his face turn red as he fought to breathe, but his joy was interrupted when he was suddenly pushed back and fell on the floor. He fought the guard on top of him, trying to get back to his revenge. 

"Calm down, now! Stop!" The guard told him, but he didn't listen. 

"She's in there, and it's all your fault!" Stiles screamed at Jackson, who laid hopeless and bloody on the floor, now being assisted by nurses. "It's all your fault, you asshole! And if she dies, I'll kill you! I'll find you and I'll kill you!"

Stiles felt a pinch on his left arm, and after a few seconds his vision got blurry. His limbs got numb and he couldn't fight anymore. And then all went black. 

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Stiles woke up on a soft bed, in a room he didn't recognize. But the walls had that tone of green that made it easy to recall what happened. He sighed and rubbing his eyes, stopping to analyze his really bruised hand. 

"You almost killed him, you know," someone said from across the room. For one insane second, he thought it was Lydia. But then reality hit him and he turned his head to see Melissa sitting on a couch. 

"What did they give me," he moaned, closing his eyes. Even the slightest movement made him dizzy. 

"They sedated you because you almost killed him," she said, her voice dripping disapproval. "Stiles, what were you thinking?"

"I was thinking about how badly I wanted to hurt that mother..."

"Stiles!"

"Look, I'm not gonna apologize," he said. "That guy came out of nowhere and almost took away the most important thing for me. So yes, I almost killed him, and I would do it again if I had the chance."

Melissa sighed and walked to him, sitting at the end of his bed. "I get that you're angry, I am too, but that's not how you deal with this. I don't know if he will press charges, I don't even know if he can do it, given the situation. But the fact is, if he died..."

"I would be screwed," he completed. "Yeah, I'm aware of that."

"Anyway, I could lecture you for hours, but now I have some amazing news to share with you," she said, cracking a smile. 

"What?" He asked. 

"Lydia, she..." The mention of her name caught his full attention. "She's now breathing on her own!"

Stiles blinked. "She's... what?"

"She's breathing! She doesn't need machines to do that for her anymore." Melissa took his hand between hers. "That means she's waking up, Stiles. It's just a matter of time now."

Stiles felt like he could cry, or dance. Lydia was coming back. Suddenly, the room was less sick, his heart has less heavy, it all looked less like a nightmare. "I'm gonna go see her," he said, throwing his legs off the bed. Standing up made his head spin, so he stood still for a few seconds before walking. 

He walked slowly in the hallway, controlling himself so he wouldn't start running and storming into the room. He didn't want her to wake up by scaring her. He went step after step until he reached her door, the opening it. 

Stiles slowly approached her, but when it hit him how much he missed her, he crossed the room in two large steps.The huge tube was gone, replaced by a thin one on her nostrils. Her whole arm was covered by a cast, and the bump on her ribs suggested that she had a few broken ones. Time had been good to her; her face wasn't all swollen and bruised like the last time he saw her. It looked a hundred times better and peaceful, she almost looked like she was asleep. Stiles smiled and took her hand. It was cold, which matched his usual cold ones. 

"Hey Lyds," he murmured. "Are you there?" She didn't respond, for much of Stiles' disappointment. 

He picked up a chair and placed it on the side of her bed. He sat there, as close as possible, and looked at her. She was so beautiful, and such beauty was something that simply didn't have place in a place like that. He could look at her forever, almost anesthetized. He raised her hand and kissed it, holding it on his face. 

"I love you," he murmured against her skin. 

The slightest movement froze him. It had been minimal, almost imperceptibly, but he didn't miss it. Her thumb moved, and he wasn't crazy, he wasn't imagining. Her thumb moved. 

"Lydia?" He called, louder this time. "Lydia, can you hear me? Do it again if you can hear me."

He waited, but nothing happened. Even so, his hopes were high. Now it was just a matter of time. 

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

After that episode, everything in that hospital seemed different. The pastel tones on the walls looked brighter, the faces looked happier. Stiles felt like he had finally awakened from that awful nightmare, and that from now on things would look up. 

Since that day, Lydia was never left alone. If it wasn't him, Natalie was always there, telling Lydia about her day, or just talking about random things. Anything to stimulate her, to help her recover faster. 

"Oh my God!" Natalie suddenly screamed. Stiles, who was sitting on the floor outside the room, jumped on his feet and burst into the room. She was covering her mouth with one hand and holding her daughter's with the other, and tears fell from her eyes. 

"What happened? What is it?" He asked.

"Her hand, she... I just asked for a sign and she..." She burst a laugh. Natalie looked at him with radiant eyes. "She gripped my hand."

Stiles blinked. "Re-really?"

"She gripped my hand, Stiles! She's waking up!" He stared at her wordlessly, still processing. "I gotta tell the doctor. Stay here with her, I'll be right back," she said, rushing out of the room. 

Stiles stood there, just looking at her. It couldn't be his imagination playing tricks, at least not this time. 

He rushed to her side and grabbed her hand. "Lydia?" he called with an excited voice. He watched her face with the *cuidado of a doctor, afraid to lose anything. "Lyds, if you can hear me, please show me."

Stiles wasn't breathing. He wasn't blinking. And she wasn't moving. 

"Lydia," he pleaded. "Lyds, please."

A silent tear fell from his eye, and he hadn't noticed he was crying. She was supposed to recover. She was supposed to... Why wasn't she doing anything? Why wasn't she waking up? He came into this room full of hope, and now all the hope was... going away. Stiles knew it was stupid to feel this way, he knew she was taking her time, but damn, it hurt so much. To see her lying there, to know she wasn't ready enough to wake up. 

Stiles held her hand tighter and laid his head on top of it. He was doing his best to fight back desperation, but the tears kept falling. 

"Come back to me, Lydia," he whispered. "Come back."

He couldn't say what changed. He couldn't say exactly what it was, but something felt different. It was... electrical, silent, strong. Stiles felt on his gut, on his heart. He looked up. And two perfect emerald orbs met his.


	25. Oblivion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear I almost cried writing this one! We're approaching the end, folks!   
> Hope you like it :)

Stiles didn't know for how long he stared at those eyes. Could be minutes, hours, and he knew he could do that forever. A smiled slowly crossed his face, along with the flow of pure happiness on his veins. His heart beat fast on his chest.

Lydia blinked. She wasn't smiling, she was just staring back at him. He thought it was ok, since she's been asleep for too long. Her face didn't show any emotion. When she blinked, he caught a hint of confusion in her expression.

"Wha..." She started saying, but her voice was hoarse from the lack of use. She gulped. "What happened? Why am I here?"

Stiles sighed. He read it was normal in patients who wake from a coma to not remember what got them there. "There has been an accident... Well, first Jackson happened, then the kidnapping happened, and then it ended on a high speed getaway, and the car you were in..."

He stopped talking because the confusion on her face had grown, along with fear. _Stupid, stupid!_ , he yelled at himself. He should have thought that when she woke up, she would probably need answers, and shouldn't throw all this at her like he did. He should have rehearsed this.

Lydia took her hand away from his, grabbing her blanket tightly by the edge, on her chest. Her eyes were big as two plates, and Stiles hated himself for scaring her like this.

"Lydia..." he started saying.

"Where is my mom?" She asked.

"She went to talk to your doctor... She'll be here any minute." He said.

"I don't want a doctor, I want my mom!" Her voice broke, and Stiles realized she was going to cry. Her eyes wandered the room, scared like a deer running from a lion. No, she wasn't scared. She looked terrified.

"It's ok, Lydia. Everything is gonna be fine," he said, trying his best to calm her down, but her fear made him crazy. "I'm here," he finished with a shaky voice.

She looked at him with wide, questioning eyes. " _Why_ are you here?"

He blinked, confused. "Wha-what do you mean? I'm here for you."

Lydia shook her head and shifted on her bed. "Well, I appreciate it but I-I don't know... I don't know who you are... So can you please go find my mom?"

Stiles stopped breathing and his blood went cold in his veins. "What?" His voice came out as a whisper. "What do you mean you don't know... You don't know who I am?"

"No, I don't."

He almost fell back from his chair. He stared at her, looking for something that showed him she was joking. And he found nothing. Lydia didn't recognize him, she had no idea who he was. It felt like the floor beneath him had vanished and he was being pulled into the void. He didn't know how many times he dreamed of this day, the day she would finally wake up and everything would be fine. She was fine. He wasn't.

"Can you please go find my mom?"

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

For how long had he been staring at that wall? Minutes? Hours? Stiles blinked. The wall had that sick tone of green that he hated. There was a painting of a house with a garden. It wasn't bad. The frame was bent a bit to the left. Someone should fix it. The telephone rang. The receptionist answered it. Some people were talking. Stiles was aware of every single thing that happened around him. But he didn't move.

Since he left the room, he felt numb. He wandered around, inside and outside the hospital, for hours, and it all just felt like a dream. The world had stopped around him. She didn't remember him, so what was left for him? What would he fight for? What was the point? It suddenly felt like his love for Lydia was the only thing keeping him on the ground, and now that it was gone, he was just a balloon flying up, with no direction. He felt empty.

Stiles remembered when the only thing he wanted was her to forget him. He remembered how hard it was to stay away from her, how it almost killed him. He thought it was for the greater good, but she proved him wrong. Lydia made him stay, and he never regretted it. Now it felt like payback for ever denying her feelings for her, seeing it all fall into oblivion.

The doctors said it was normal for patients to wake from a coma with loss of memory. Everyone said that. Wait a few days, they said. The memories will come back. Stiles waited one, two, three days, and nothing happened. He couldn't stay around for this. He couldn't look at her face and not seen any trace of recognition. It hurt too much. And everyone looked at him with so much pity, like he was nothing but the poor boy whose girlfriend had no memory of. It made him sick. He hated pity. Allison came and talked to Lydia, but left the room with no smile on her face. She had been forgotten. When she saw him, she sent him the same look as anyone else. And so did Melissa, and Natalie, and Scott.

Stiles was so. Fucking. Sick of it.

One day, he left. He just got up and left without talking to anyone or looking back. He couldn't stay in that place any longer... there was nothing there for him anymore. He got into his car and drove home, packed a few things and left again. In no time, he was walking through the path in the woods he knew so well. Even thought he was out in the open, he felt like he couldn't breathe. He needed to get things off his system. He sighed when the so familiar abandoned house appeared in the middle of the trees.

He entered the house and dropped his backpack on the floor. He searched for his wrist wraps and walked towards the punch bag hanging from the ceiling. He stretched his upper muscles, wrapped his wrists, took a deep breath and took the first punch.

It felt like ages since the last time he'd done that. Stiles gathered everything he felt the past few days, the fear, the hopelessness, the sadness and so many other things. He pushed everything into his arms and punched. He was really good at turn all kinds of feelings into anger.

_Punch._

The girl he loved didn't know who he was.

 _Punch_.

Every memory of them was gone.

_Punch._

What was he gonna do?

_Punch. Punch. Punch._

"Fuck! FUCK!" he blurted out with a yell. His muscles burned and his blood boiled in his veins, but for the first time, it didn't feel good. Stiles was frustrated. He was sad, he was hurt and so. Fucking. Frustrated. It really felt like the world was falling over him, and he didn't realize he was crying until he fell on his knees. The sobs came up his throat, one after the other, and he couldn't stop.

 _Lydia is not dead,_ he told himself. _She's alive, and she has a whole life ahead of her. She will be happy. She just won't be with you._

"She's not dead," he said out loud. "Just be happy for her."

His phone rang on his backpack. He didn't move to answer it, ready to let it fall on voicemail. Stiles sighed and got up. He grabbed his backpack and left the house as his phone rang again. He ignored it the whole way through the woods. When he got into his car, he lost his patience and answered it.

"What?" He said without looking the name on the screen.

"Stiles? Oh, thank god!" his aunt's voice came from the speakers. "Where are you? Why weren't you picking up your phone?"

He sighed. "Melissa, what is it?"

"It's Lydia," she said. In another time, her name would make her heart race, but now it only made it sink.

"What about her?"

"She's asking for you," Melissa said, and by her tone she was smiling.

Stiles opened his mouth, then closed it. His head spun, his heart beating fast. He actually had to leave for her to remember him? Was that simple? He licked his lips. "But she... she doesn't know who I am."

"Well, she's asking for you! Come on, this is a wonderful thing!" She tried to cheer him up when he hesitated. "Go home, take a shower, eat something and then come back. We'll be waiting for you."

After he hung up, Stiles stayed still for several minutes, looking ahead. There was a storm in his mind, so he couldn't know exactly how he felt. He started the car and started driving home, letting the extasy kick in as he gripped the wheel tighter and presses the gas pedal. He couldn't waste another minute.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

When Stiles left the hospital that morning, he wasn't planning on coming back so soon. He wasn't surprised though; things seemed to be going not like his plans a lot lately.

He did what Melissa told him to: he went home, took a long shower (he even saw a face he didn't see in a long time: his, in a full vampire mood.), ate two bowls of cereal and drove to the hospital. He walked in with slow, hesitant steps, his hands shaking lightly. Expectation, excitement and fear ran in his veins.

Stiles stopped outside her room and took a deep breath. He knocked twice.

"Come in," her voice came from inside. He twisted the handle and took a step inside. Lydia was sitting on her bed with her back on the pillows. Her strawberry blonde soft curls fell over her shoulders and her skin was slightly pale, but she still looked beautiful. She welcomed him with a smile. "Hey."

"Hey," he said back, standing awkwardly in the middle of the room. How weird was that situation? Almost as if they were total strangers... In fact, for one of them, they were strangers.

"Please sit, Stiles," she said, gesturing to the chair beside the bed. There was a certain formality on the way she spoke his name, and he hated it immediately. Someone must have told her, he thought.

"So," she started when he sat down. "I'm glad you're here."

"Yeah, I'm... They told me you were asking for me, so..." His leg bounced up and down nonstop and his hands were sweaty. He was definitely not made for situations like this.

"Yes, right, I did. I wanted to... talk. To you." Lydia didn't seem comfortable either. She kept twisting her fingers in her lap. Stiles figured it was better rip off the band aid already.

"Do you remember me?" He asked. "Do you remember... _anything_?"

She looked at him with big sorry eyes, and he suddenly wished he never came. "No, I... I don't remember, I'm so sorry. I just..." She shook her head.

"Don't apologize, it's not your fault." He rubbed his face with his hands and sighed. He got up in a sudden movement that made her jump. He wanted to leave so bad, and he wanted to punch himself for that. Lydia sent him a look full of distress from the bed. "I'm sorry, I can't... I don't understand. If you don't remember me, then why am I here?"

Lydia sighed and shifted on her bed so she was facing him. "I don't remember you, but... There's something about you that makes me feel... _things_. It's like I don't know who you are, but I feel you're someone important."

Stiles stared at her, voiceless and paralyzed. Did things like that actually happen? How was that possible? I didn't make any sense. The memory was lost, but not the feeling. Did she like him without knowing him? There were so many questions popping in his head at the same moment that he probably stood there for hours with his mouth open.

"Please say something," she said, taking him out of his reveries.

"I-I just... Why... I mean, _how_..." He shook his head and closed his eyes. A burst of laughter came up his throat. "Lydia, how is that possible?"

"I don't know!" She shrugged. "I keep replaying the moment I woke up and you were there, and I hear your voice and I feel..."

"What? What do you feel?" He asked, sitting back down.

Lydia blushed. "I feel... goosebumps. Shivers. And my _heart_..." She sighed, and looked down to her hands. "I must really, really like you, because I have no memories of you from before that day, yet my heart is racing since the moment you walked in."

Stiles kept his eyes on her, amazed. "I love you," he whispered.

She lifted her head and stared at him. "What?"

"I love you," he repeated. "I guess I knew it for a while, but I'm such a jerk... I never told you. Not when you could listen. But now we're here, and you're telling me these things..." He shook his head. "If you're not sure if you like me or not, just know that I love you. It kills me that you don't remember any of our moments together, and probably never will, but I know that I will never, ever stop loving you."

Stiles didn't feel the tears coming down his face. Lydia had her face wet with tears too, and she bit her bottom lip to stop her sobs. Then she threw her legs off the bed and got up. Stiles did the same and embraced her with his arms. It felt so damn amazing to hold her, after all this time. She had the same smell, something sweet. He buried his face in her hair.

"I'm so sorry. I'm hurting you so much, but I'm _trying_... " She sobbed against his shirt. "I'm trying to get better, to remember... The doctor said..."

"It's temporary," he finished, caressing her hair. "I know. You will get better."

"Stiles, what if I don't?" She took a step back and looked at him. "What if I don't ever remember? I don't want this for you... You deserve better than this."

He frowned. "Don't say that."

"You can't wait forever, Stiles."

He looked in her eyes and saw determination. She wanted the best for him. She wanted him to move on. And she was right. Stiles had to think of the possibility of her never remembering, that she would have to live her life, make new memories. He couldn't follow her forever.

He would have to let her go.

He gulped. "How long?"

"Two weeks," she said. "That's how long the doctor said I would be here, that's how long you will wait."

"Two weeks." Stiles nodded and took a step back, whiping the tears off his face.

Lydia sighed. "I want to remember you so fucking bad." Her whisper was the last thing he heard after he left.


	26. Days are Gone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so, sorry if its too short but this chapter is more like a filler :) theres more drama coming soon!

Two weeks never passed so slowly. But when they came to an end, Stiles definitely wasn't ready yet.

He spent every hour of the fourteen days she gave him trying to get her back. Every day he would go to her room and they would talk. It was mostly Stiles telling her stories about them, how they met, how they became friends, but sometimes they would just talk about random things. She was still the same Lydia, smart and easy to talk. He loved talking to her, but the big imaginary clock was ticking over his head. He was running out of time, he was doing everything he could, and it wasn't working.   
  
Lydia probably had good enough grades to get her graduated already. Since Stiles didn't, he had to get back to school. It would suck terribly if he had to do junior year all over again, so he just tried to concentrate. People stared at him, they asked questions, they wanted to know what happened to Lydia and they wanted details. "She was in a car accident. She's recovering." That was basically all he told them. The only person he felt comfortable talking to was Allison, who was the only one who appeared to really care about Lydia's condition. She had been forgotten too, after all, and she also visited Lydia every day.   
  
When Stiles wasn't burning every calorie he had to pay attention to the classes, he was thinking of her. He tried to imagine what she was doing, if she was asleep or not, if she would wake up and suddenly remember everything. _She would've called_ , he thought as he drove to the hospital.   
  
"Aren't you supposed to be at school?" Melissa asked when he walked in. In fact, he skipped the last period. Fuck math.   
  
"Yeah," he sighed as he sat down on a chair.   
  
"How are you doing?" She asked, concerned about the tired look of her nephew. "I mean, did she..."   
  
"No, she didn't," he answered, rubbing his eyes. "She doesn't remember anything."   
  
"Oh, Stiles..." she sighed, sitting down beside him. She understood the pain in his eyes. It was day thirteen,after all.   
  
"I just don't know what else to do," he murmured. "I've done everything the internet and the doctors tell me to do, but they mostly tell me to give her time. And time is what I can't give."   
  
"Can't you two... work it out?" She asked, unsure. "You know, see if it works?"   
  
Stiles shook his head. He thought about it a lot, but there was no way to save his relationship. "No, we both know it wouldn't be a good idea." He sighed. "What she feels about me is nothing but a ghost of what she felt before. It's nothing real."   
  
"But it could happen again. If she fell for you once, she can..."   
  
"It just wouldn't be the same."   
  
Melissa understood that wasn't an easy topic to talk about. Stiles had asked himself those same questions. _What if we started over? Go out on a few dates, see where does it go? Could it work? Could she fall for me again? Could we pretend this never happened?_ But the answer of all these questions came right after.   
  
_No._   
  
They couldn't happen again. Even if they tried to make this work, there would always be a huge gap between them. Their relationship would be empty, because their history was gone. The memories were gone, and they couldn't just remake them. Lydia knew that, and so did he.   
  
Stiles went home earlier that day. Lydia looked at him like she wanted to say something, but didn't know how or either she should or not say it. It bugged him, because he knew exactly what she wanted to say. _I'm sorry. We tried_. And then eventually she would say goodbye. Stiles definitely couldn't take that.   
  
So he didn't show up for day fourteen.   
  
That morning, when his alarm went on, he had already been staring at the ceiling for hours. He couldn't tell if he had gotten any sleep. He threw his legs off the bed, turned the alarm off and got up. He got ready for school with automatic movements, almost like he was sleepwalking. He left his house without turning the car's radio on, driving in silence to the school. It felt like he was floating, unaware of the things happening around him, his mind strangely peaceful. The day passed in slow motion, or maybe he wasn't working normally.

When the classes were finally over, he walked to his car and went home. He was supposed to be driving to hospital by then, but he maybe it was already settled that he wouldn't show up that day, because he didn't think twice as he took a different turn. He parked in his driveway, got inside the house, went to his room without even think of what he was doing. When he came to his senses, he was staring at himself in the bathroom mirror. The guy in the reflection looked tired. Defeated. About to lose his mind. Stiles bent down, opened the sink and washed his face with cold water twice.   
  
"What am I gonna do now?" He asked, looking at the mirror. That was the storm kicking in. "What the fuck am I gonna do now?"

Stiles closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Memories started flashing in his mind, like a movie playing in fast forward behind his eyes. He remembered the first time he saw her; when he stepped into the classroom and there she was. Beautiful. By then he couldn't possibly imagine what she would become to him. Not only something important, but his everything. He couldn't know how he would hold on to every memory he had of her, every smile, every word, because everything else felt like it was just fading away.   
His chest ached, and only then he realized he couldn't breathe. It felt like he was choking on his own feelings and he couldn't stop it. As he tried to force air in his lungs, his mind was still rushing, his blood boiled with anger, frustration. Stiles was a battlefield. He heard a loud noise, and he only realized it had come from him when he felt pain coming from his hand. Opening his eyes, he saw the smashed hole in the mirror where he had planted his fist. He looked down at his hand, which was getting covered in blood coming from his knuckles. Stiles almost burst a laugh. He had to remember to stay away from mirrors while having nervous breakdowns.   
  
He washed his hand and covered it with a towel. He sat on his bed and looked at the window, the unanswered question ringing in his head. What was he gonna do? What was gonna happen now? He had to accept he was never gonna be with her again, hell, maybe he wouldn't even see her again. He had no choice. Every cell in his body was telling him the same thing, and he knew there was nothing left for him to do.

Leave.

 _Run_.

Stiles got up, grabbed his backpack and emptied it. He shoved in everything he needed to stay away from home for a long time. He found another bag and did the same with it. After he was done, he fished his phone from his pocket and dialed.

"Hey, Stiles." Scott's voice came from the speakers.

"Scott," he said, clearing to get rid of the lump formed there. "Listen, I..."

"Are you ok?" Scott asked, concerned.

Stiles sighed. "No. I'm not."

There was a second of silence that for the two of them, who knew each other better than anyone else, served as an agreement.

"Call me when you get here, all right?"

"Yeah," he said. "Thanks bro."

"It's ok. See you later."

He hung up his phone and put it back in his pocket. Hanging both backpacks on each shoulder, he went down the stairs and left the house, locking the door behind him without looking back. He walked to his car with purposeful steps.There was no coming back now. It was time to move on.


	27. Getaways

Lydia brushed her hair one more time before placing the brush in a bag on her bed. Around her were three big travel bags, that held all of her clothes. She looked at her reflection in the mirror. She looked the same as she had always been, same hair, same body. Same person. But everything around her looked different. Lydia barely remembered moving to this room. She didn't recognize the streets of this town. It all looked like those dreams, when you fall asleep in one place and wake up in another, completely different. But this was reality.

It felt silly to go back to school so close to a holiday, but she did it anyway. And it was one the worst decisions she'd ever made. She walked past the doors, into a hallway she's never been before, and everybody stared at her. Lydia felt like she was naked. All the stares made her feel insecure and strange, like every set of eyes on her were a flashlight in her face. She only moved when Allison came to rescue her. Lydia knew they were best friends, and at that moment a friend was all she needed. She stayed by her side all day, but people still looked at her like she came back from the dead, which wasn't exactly a lie, but still. Some of them came to talk her, speaking with that voice you use while talking to babies. They asked how she felt, but Lydia could tell they didn't care.

"Hey, are you ok?" Allison asked her softly as they walked into the hallway after third period. Lydia shook her head negatively, looking around. She felt like the major attraction of a freak show.

She left the school in the middle of the day. She went outside and just started walking. She had no idea where she was going, she was not even looking forward. She braced herself and walked for hours.

Would it always be like this? Would she always be that-girl-Lydia-who-lost-her-head? Would she ever recognize the streets? The perspective of being the ghost of someone else scared her. She wanted to be Lydia again, with no tragic background, no forgotten love stories... And there was that. The love story. The one she hopelessly wanted to save, but had nothing to hold on to. Like she had to remember that one word that made the whole sentence make sense. Yes, she was somehow attracted to Stiles, but it felt so small. Lydia felt a little bit empty when she was with him, like she could physically feel the memories she lost.

She wasn't surprised when he didn't show up. She tried to understand how hard it was for him.

Lydia shook her head. She couldn't stay for this. It was too much pressure being her and carry a life she couldn't remember she had on her back. And hurt a really nice, pretty, funny, guy she barely knew was just the icing of this messy cake. She opened her bag and grabbed her phone, dialing her mom's number.

"Lydia!" Her mom's voice came on the speakers. "Allison just called, she said..."

"Mom, I need you to come pick me up. I'm... lost."

"Sure. Tell me where you are."

Lydia described everything around her. She had ended up in a park, where a few kids played while their moms watched. She sat down on a bench and waited for her own mother to arrive and take her away. Away was where she needed to be.

After a few minutes, Natalie's car stopped by the sidewalk and Lydia rushed to it.They drove in silence most of the time. Natalie was constantly sending looks to her daughter, and Lydia looked to the window, thinking. The older woman could almost hear her daughter's mind working, and she definitely didn't look happy.

"So, how was your day?" Natalie asked, trying to get the girl to talk. "Was coming back to school that bad?"  
  
"It was terrible," she murmured, looking down to her hands on her lap.  
  
"Come on, it couldn't have been so..."  
  
"Mom," she murmured, looking up. "I can't do this."  
  
Natalie sent a concerned look at her, her eyes going between her daughter and the street in front of her very fast. " What do you mean? Lydia?"  
  
The girl took a deep breath. "I can't go out every day and pretend everything is the same... Or that anything will ever be the same. I just..."  
  
"Tell me what you're thinking," she said. "Just tell me, and I will do anything..."  
  
"I was thinking that I..." She took another deep breath. "I want to spend some time with my aunt Monica."  
  
"In London!?" Natalie asked, caught by surprise."  
  
"Yes." Her mom's mouth hung open as she blinked several times, looking forward. Lydia suddenly felt terrible. The last thing she wanted was her mom thinking that she wanted to get away from her. "I'm sorry, mom. This is not about you, I just really need..."  
  
"I understand, Lydia," she said, sending her a small smile. "I understand."  
  
After that, all they talked about was the trip. Monica was Natalie's older sister that lived in London. She and Lydia weren't exactly close, but they kept in touch. Of course she knew about what happened to her nephew, but couldn't take enough time off her job to visit. She was more than happy to know her only nephew was going to spend some time with her.  
  
So there she was, three days later, surrounded by bags, her passport and flight ticket in her purse. The girl in the mirror looked slightly scared, but she knew she needed this. Lydia worked on her best confident smile and there it was. She was more than ready to start her life over.  
  
Natalie knocked three times before entering the room. "Are you ready?"  
  
Lydia nodded. "Yes, I am."  
  
They helped each other bringing the bags down and in the car. After that, they drove to Beacon Hill's small airport. They dispatched the bags and soon it was time to go. Lydia hugged her mom tightly for several minutes.  
  
"Promise you will call, or at least send an email of something," her mom said after they pulled apart. "Just stay in touch."  
  
She smiled. "Of course, mom. Love you."  
  
"I love you too, baby. Take care."  
  
They hugged one more time before Lydia left. She gave her ticket and her passport to the flight attendant and walked to her plane with her chin up. Lydia looked more confident than she actually felt, but maybe if she pretended long enough it would feel true.  
  
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Stiles drank all of the amber liquid in his cup with one single gulp. It burned while going down his throat, but he was used to the feeling. Whiskey and him were old friends.  
  
He placed the glass cup on the counter and was about to ask for another one when his phone buzzed in his pocket.  
  
"Hey, Scottie," he greeted.  
  
"Stiles, where are you?" Scott's concerned voice came loud on his ears. "It's almost one a.m.!"  
  
"Oow, sorry buddy. Lost track of time over here," he laughed. Scott obviously didn't think it was funny at all.  
  
"You're at the bar, aren't you?" He sighed. "Hold on, I'll come and get you."

Stiles sighed as he rubbed his face with his hand. "No, it's ok. I'm fine, I just... I'll be there soon."

"Are you sure? I can go pick you..."

"Yeah, I'm sure. I can drive."

After he hung up, he lowered his head and stared at his glass, the effects of whiskey gone before they even kicked in. Stiles felt bad for being such a burden for Scott. That wasn't the reason why he moved in, but he couldn't help it. He spent most of his time drinking or walking around the town, or doing both. He was entering the same dark place he was years ago, where he didn't care about anything, or even think about anything. Or at least he tried not to. It was hard when everything around Stiles remind him of her. He shut it off the best way he could, like he's done a million times before.

But, yes, he was in misery.

Stiles paid for his drinks and left the bar. Outside, he took a deep breath and started walking. He had wandered for so long on those streets that, after a few weeks living there, he could go back to Scott's small apartment with his eyes closed. Sooner than he expected, he was standing in front of the old building where he now lived. He climbed the stairs and unlocked the door, finding Scott sitting on the couch with a mug on his hands.  
  
He placed the mug down on the coffee table and faced him. "Stiles, we need to talk."  
  
"That never means anything good," Stiles murmured, more to himself. He sighed and made his way to the kitchen. "Listen, I sorry, I should've texted you, or something..."  
  
"Okay, but it's not just that," he said, getting up and leaning on the counter where Stiles was filling a cup of water. "I'm worried about you."  
  
Stiles moaned internally. "I told you, I'm fine..."  
  
"Yeah, that's great, but what I meant was..." Scott shook his head as he pinched the bridge of his nose. "That's gonna sound really... Argh, I hate being that person, but I'm worried about your future."  
  
Stiles almost choke on his water. "What?!"  
  
"Ugh, don't make me say that again." Stiles shook his head and drank his water. Scott waited patiently so he had all his attention. "But I'm serious, man."  
  
Stiles looked at him, trying to find a hint of a joke on his face. "Wait, really? We are actually having this conversation?"  
  
"Yes, we are." Stiles growled and walked to the couch, Scott following him.  
  
He plopped down on the couch and looked up to Scott, still not understanding where that conversation was going. "What about my future?"  
  
Scott sighed and sat beside him. "Listen to me. You left your house and your school..."  
  
Stiles let out an incredulous gasp. "So you didn't hear about the amount of shit I've been through?" He asked, controlling his voice so he wouldn't yell. "You think I left because I got _bored_?"  
  
Scott's eyes widened. "No! You left because you had to, I know you, Stiles, I understand..."  
  
"It was _hell_ , Scott! I..."  
  
"I understand!" he said louder so the younger boy would listen to him. "Everything that happened was too hard for you, so you left all of that behind. It is fine, I would probably do the same thing. But now that you're here, you need to think about what's next! I mean, do you have any plans?"

"Well, I had plans," Stiles said. "Of course I had. But all of them involved... you know." Scodd nodded; he understood that even say her name hurt him.

"Have you thought about college?"

"Hm, yes? I mean, I don't even know what career I want to have. I'm not really good at anything." He shrugged.

"I'm sure you'll figure it out. ," Scott placed his hand on the boy's shoulder. "I'm here, okay?"

Stiles sent him a weak smile. The conversation might have been over, but Scott was still concerned about him. He hasn't seen his brother laugh or even giving a real smile. He was worried that Stiles would never be the same again. He saw this before, when his parents died, he knew what it did to Stiles. And now, a whole different kind of tragedy, with the same consequence. Stiles was broken.

Scott cleaned his throat. "So... Have you, hm, talked to her?"

"No," he answered quietly.

Scott debated with himself whether he tell him or not. Allison had called him and told him Lydia had traveled to London. Would it help if he told Stiles that? Would it change anything at all? Looking at Stiles, Scott realized it wouldn't. Maybe she needed it as much as he did.

Later that night, Stiles was laying on the couch that he now called bed. He had been staring at the ceiling for God knows how long, just thinking about what Scott told him. What was he gonna do with his future? The thought of going to college didn't make him happy at all. He never really wanted to go to college, especially not now. If he had to have a plan, then he already got one. He always wanted to leave and live on the road, with no past, no future. His only worry would be where he would sleep, what he would eat. Stiles' lips curled up. That sounded like a hell of a plan. This way he could finally and definitely run away from every single fucked up thing that ever happened to him.

  
So it would be him and his Jeep against the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nest chapter will be the last!!


	28. Awake

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello you guyssss!! This chapter is the part I of what originally was the last chapter (which was waaay too big)  
> Sorry it took me this long to update. I recently lost my dad, so I couldn't possibly think of what to write. I'm going to post the part II next saturday (cause I love drama)  
> p.s.: some things in this chapter may not be accurate. I did some research, but if some information is not right, I apologize.  
> AND A HAPPY NEW YEAR FOR YOU GUYS!

Before she had to worry about entering a new school, in the middle of the school year, and in another country, Lydia did her best to enjoy Spring Break. It was Summer there, but anyway, it was a holiday. She sat on a bench in a park near her aunt's house and braced herself, trying to get as warm as she could with all those layers of clothes.  
  
Oh, she missed the California sun. Actually, she missed the sun itself. She looked up, and all she could see was gray. And, of course it was cold. Lydia sighed. She had been in London for three whole weeks, and was still debating with herself whether she wanted of not get a new life there. Maybe she could get used to the cold and the lack of sunlight. Would she have to give up all of her skirts and dresses? On the other side, she always wanted a trench coat.  
  
Well, she still had to analyze every side of this.  
  
Lydia got up and walked back home throughout the path she now knew very well. She watched people going their own way, wearing considerably light clothes for a weather like that. But, of course, it was summer. She could be one of those people. She could be Lydia, with a British accent, wearing skirts when it's cold, laughing with her new friends. She smiled to herself. She could do it. She was a sociable person, she could make friends... Right?  
  
"I'm back!" Lydia announced when she entered the big house she now lived in, closing the door behind her. She sighed when the radiator's heat reached her.  
  
"Good!" Her aunt's strong accent came from the kitchen. "I just made tea!"  
  
Lydia sighed and went to meet her aunt. The older woman smiled as she placed two mugs and the teapot on the table. Lydia sat down and thanked for the tea. Monica sat across her and sent her an expectant smile. Lydia smiled too, not sure about what to do. Did she want to... talk? About what? She felt so rude, wanting to avoid a conversation with the woman who welcomed her with open arms.  
  
"So..." The girl started. "How was your day?"  
  
Monica shrugged, taking a sip of her tea. "You know, same old, same old." Lydia nodded, drinking from her mug. "Now how was your day?"  
  
"It was, uh, fine. Yeah, it was ok," she smiled, unsure if she had given a satisfying answer.  
  
They maintained the small talk until both mugs were empty. After that, Lydia excused herself and went to the guest room. She couldn't call that room hers because it didn't "look" like her. The walls were bare and sand colored, her clothes hadn't found their way to the wardrobe yet. Maybe she had already decided not to stay, not to make this house her home. She just didn't know why. She should want to start over more than anything, and she knew she could, but, somehow, she didn't want to.  
  
Lydia looked at the clock on the wall and hurried to grab her notebook, just like she did every day at that very same time, since the day she arrived. She logged into Skype and soon her mom's face approved on the screen.  
  
"Hi, mom," Lydia greeted, smiling.  
  
"Hi, darling," she said, smiling back. "How's London treating you?"  
  
Lydia rolled her eyes. Her mom insisted that they talked every day, even though she had no news to tell. "It's treating me well, mom. Like yesterday. And the day before that."  
  
"Sorry. I just miss you so much!"  
  
"I know, mom, I miss you too. But nothing's really happening around here. I mean, it's pretty much the same thing every day."  
  
"I'm sorry but... You weren't expecting something to just happen, right? First, you need to know what you want, and then you need to go after it."  
  
Lydia sighed. "That's the problem, I... I'm just not sure about _what_ I want." She looked at the concerned look her mom was sending her and just poured her heart out. She talked about everything she felt and thought, until the sun outside began to set. Her fear to never belong, the infinite number of questions she didn't know how to answer, her doubts, her hopes, her plans that could never work, it all just came out of her mouth. She even talked about the one thing she avoided to think about: Stiles. The simple thought of his name seemed to make everything worse.  
  
When she finally finished talking, it was dark outside and she was still sitting on her bed, feeling a thousand pounds lighter. Natalie, who had listed patiently to every word, now smiled sympathetically at her daughter.  
  
"Oh, I missed our talks," she said, making Lydia laugh.  
  
"Me too." Lydia sighed. "I guess I didn't notice the number of things I had to say."  
  
"That was too much to keep to yourself, Lydia." Natalie's smile faded, being replaced by the same concerned look as before. "You shouldn't... You know there are people who care about you, right? Allison, for example. She's always asking for you, so, you know, if you need a friend..."  
  
Lydia shook her head, tired of having the same speech over and over. "I know we used to be best friends, mom, but it's not the same! I like her, I really do, but I'm not gonna open up to someone I barely know..."  
  
"Yes, I understand..." Natalie nodded, looking sad. "I'm sorry, honey."  
  
"Yeah, me too." She sighed, suddenly not wanting to talk anymore. Lydia now felt tired, even thought she did nothing all day, all she wanted to do was take a shower and curl up on her bed. "Listen, mom, I'm going to bed now. I'll talk to you tomorrow."  
  
"Alright, sweetie, goodnight."  
  
Lydia turned off her notebook and went to take a shower. A few minutes later, she climbed on her bed and curled under the warm blankets. Her aunt knocked on the door to tell her goodnight, and after that, Lydia was left alone in her dark bedroom. She sighed, closing her eyes. Another night of sleep before another exact same day as today.  
  
Lydia fell asleep thinking about what could possibly make the next day a little bit different.

  
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx    
  
Several hours passed. Lydia opened her big green eyes and stared at the ceiling. She laid there, not moving, her breath shallow, her mind rushing. There were so many things happening before her eyes, that if felt like there was a hurricane inside her head.  
  
Lydia blinked. She was awake.  
  
"Holy shit," she gasped. Her fingertips tingled as a jolt of excitement took over her. She suddenly felt like laughing out loud, or crying. Her heart beat like a drum in her chest. That felt too real to be a dream. Lydia pinched herself. Nope, not a dream. That was really happening.  
  
After all, how could it be a dream if it felt like she was waking up from a nightmare?  
  
A light knock on the door startled her. "Hey, Lydia, are you awake?" She heard Monica's voice asking.  
  
"Yes," she murmured, getting used to the feeling that yes, she was finally awake. Lydia smiled. "Yes, I'm awake! I'm awake!" She jumped out of her bed and rushed to the door, opening it and facing her surprised aunt with a huge grin on her face. "I. Am. Awake! _Awake!"_  
  
Lydia hugged her aunt. Monica hugged her back, still not quite understanding what was going on. "Yeah... I can see that..."  
  
"I can't believe it!" the girl laughed openly.  
  
"Lydia..." They broke apart and Monica grabbed the girl's shoulders. She analyzed her niece's face lightly frightened. "What is going on?"  
  
"I remember!" she nearly shouted. "Everything!"  
  
"What?!" Monica exclaimed. They hugged again, spinning around and laughing. "So what now?" She asked, when they broke apart, breathless.  
  
"I don't know..." Lydia said, moving her hair away from her face. "I guess I gotta go back home."  
  
Without waiting for a reaction, Lydia rushed back to her room. She grabbed her partially full bags, placed them on her bed and started throwing the rest of her clothes inside, without bothering to fold them. Monica came inside and helped her and, in a few minutes, all of her belongings were packed, except for the clothes she would wear during the day (Lydia almost forgot she was still in her pajamas.)  
  
They got into a cab together, Lydia bitting her nails all the way to the airport. Once they got there, they literally ran to front desk, where the attendant told them the next flight would leave in two hours. Lydia moaned and ran her hands throught her hair impatiently as her aunt bought her ticket. They head ed to security, where they had to say goodbye. Monica pulled Lydia into a tight hug.

"Good luck," she said, hugging her niece. "I wish you all the happiness."  
  
"Thank you, aunt Monica," Lydia said. They broke apart, and she looked deep into her aunt's eyes, meaning every word she said. "For everything."  
  
"Ok, off you go!" Monica wiped a tear from her face. Lydia gave her a kiss on the cheek and turned around to go through security check. Waving goodbye, she went to her terminal, where she paced around, too restless to sit in one of the chairs.  
  
Lydia felt like she was on fire. She couldn't believe she had spent so much time without her memories. They were such a big part of her that the simple thought of it sounded absurd. Did she really look at the face of someone she liked and just couldn't tell who that was? She felt the joy of finally remembering that word that was on the tip of her tongue, but she couldn't say which was - except that that word changed every aspect of her entire life.  
  
If she thought that the two hour wait for the flight was too much, she was definitely not ready for the flight itself. It would take her about eleven hours to get home to actually get home and inside planes, times just doesn't pass. She took some naps, ate, read some magazines, and the flight still seemed to last a decade.

After what if felt like a life time, Lydia finally got home. It was really early in the morning, most of the town must have been asleep, but she didn't feel tired at all. She paid the taxi driver after he helped her with her baggage, then searched for her keys in her bag and unlocked the front door. Oh, she missed this house.  
  
"Mom!" She yelled to wake her mom. "Mom, I'm home!"

"Lydia?" Natalie hurried to the stairs, not believing what she was hearing. Lydia opened a big smile when she saw her, because she misse her so much. "What happened? What..."

"I remember everything, mom," she said, still smiling. Natalie looked at her, her eyes wide. "Every single thing!"

"Oh, Lydia, this is... wonderful!" She hugged her daughter tightly, laughing in disbelief. "My baby, oh I'm so happy!"

"Believe me, I am too," Lydia said, making her mom laugh.

"Come on, I'll make you some coffee," Natalie said after several minutes, leading her daughter to the kitchen.

Lydia sat on the kitchen isle while her mom made them breakfast. She hadn't noticed how hungry she was until she smelled eggs. When the food was finally ready, her mom sat across from her, a smile on her face.

"So, how did it happen?" She asked.

Lydia shrugged, swallowing and spoonful of eggs. "I just woke up, and they were all there."

"That's so amazing, I still can't believe it!" She shook her head. "What am I saying, of course I do. I've been praying, you know."

"Praying? You?"  
  
"It worked, didn't it?" Lydia laughed, shaking her head. "Oh, you should call Allison."

" _Allison_!" Lydia left the kitchen and ran to grab her phone on her bag. She called Allison's number and paced around the living room impatiently as she waited for her to pick up.

"Lydia?" Allison's voice came on the speakers, sounding sleepy and unsure. Of course she was unsure, her and Lydia were barely friends. "Is everything ok?"

Lydia smiled. She missed her so much. "Everything is great! I... Hum..." How was she supposed to just tell her? She wanted to see her face, hug her. "Listen, I know it's a little early, but can you come to my house? Like, now?"

"You're in Beacon Hills?" She asked, confused.

"Yes! Hurry!" She said, hanging up. She stood there, practically jumping in excitement. Natalie came to wait with her in the living room, but she sat on the couch and watched her daughter being happy like a kid on Christmas. When the doorbell finally rang, Lydia ran to answer it.

She swung the door open with a big smile on face. Allison looked at her for a whole minute before pulling her into a hug. She didn't have to say anything, Allison knew her too well.

"I missed you so much!" The brunette said.

"Me too!"

They spent the whole morning just talking about what happened. If felt good to finally laugh again. It was like Lydia had spent too much time in a place without light, or without being able to see colors, and now everything was bright and colorful, she was loving it. But there was one thing missing. Her happiness wasn't complete, and she knew why.

"I have to go see Stiles," she said, getting up from the couch. Said his name made her heart jump in anticipation. She couldn't just call him, she had to see him, touch him, kiss him. She had to say she was sorry. Natalie and Allison exchanged strange looks. "What?" She asked.

Natalie cleared her throat. "Well, Lydia, Stiles is not here anymore."

Lydia frowned. "What do you mean he's not here anymore? Where is him?"

"He's... He's with Scott."  
  
"Oh." That was surprising. Well, not too much, giving Stiles' background. "Okay, then I'm going there, just tell me where..."

"Actually," Allison said. ",he may not be there anymore."

"What? What do you mean?" She asked impatiently.

"He, hum..."

"Allison, spill!"

"Ok! Hum... I was talking to Scott a few days back and he told me Stiles was planning on going on a road trip... or something," she said, watching her friend's reaction.

"A road trip?" Lydia nearly screamed." _Where_?"

"I-I don't know! Neither does Scott, by the way. He told me Stiles just said he wanted to meet some new places, and didn't know when he was coming back or..." She stopped herself, biting her lip.

"Or what?"

"Or _if_ he was coming back," she finished.

Lydia gasped. So he was running away? She must have hurt him really bad, and she hated herself for it. Even thought it was not her fault, no one should never hurt the ones they love. She wanted to be held in his arms bare minutes ago, and now he was slipping through her fingers. Running away from her, putting miles and miles of distance between him and the damage she had done. Trying to forget her the way she did to him.

Except that she remembered him. She loved him. And she would never, not in a billion years, let him go.

Lydia grabbed her bag. "Allison, call Scott. Make him tell you everything he knows about this. And try to call Stiles."

"Where are you going?" She asked when Lydia grabbed her car keys and rushed to the door.

"Well, I'm going after the man I love," she said, not looking back as she left the house.


	29. Road Trip

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I know I was supposed to post it last Saturday, but my internet... vanished? It stopped working. But good news: I wrote an epilogue! yay! It's not very long, it's just one last happy moment before the story ends. Anyway, I'll be posting it on Friday :)

"Pick up, pick up, pick up..." She murmured to herself, holding her phone on her ear so hard she might break it. Her call went to voicemail, Lydia growled and tossed her phone on the passenger seat. Leaving a voicemail wouldn't change anything, since she had already left a hundred of them.

  
She had been trying to reach Stiles since the moment she stepped out of her house. The boy seemed to be on a trip to the moon, because no one could talk to him, or knew where he was. She had gone to Scott's place, hoping that she would still find her boyfriend there, but with no luck; he had already left, hours before. Scott only knew the direction he had gone, and something about 'maybe' going to Mexico. Hours after that, with all the roads to Mexico in front of her, she was hanging on that 'maybe'. Lydia ignored the side of her that told her he could be anywhere by now and just drove.

  
Her phone buzzed from the passenger seat. Reaching for it without taking her eyes off the road, she pressed the green button. "Yes!"

"Lydia." She heard her mom's voice saying. She let out a breath; it wasn't the voice she was expecting to hear. "Where are you now?"

"I am... somewhere in... I don't know, I just drove past a green restaurant."

  
"Are you really going through this stupid plan to go to Mexico?" Natalie asked impatiently.

  
Lydia rolled her eyes. She was tired of explaining it. "Mom, Stiles is going there, and he doesn't know I'm back, so I gotta tell him. And I don't care if I have to drive to Canada, I'm going to find him!"

Natalie sighed. "Lydia, just come home," she said. "We will think of some other way to reach him..."

  
"No, mom!" She controlled herself not to yell. "He's already too far, and I'm sure I'm going in the right direction. I can't stop now. Mom, try to understand..."

  
"But what if he's not going there?" She asked. "What if he's going to a totally different place? What are you gonna do if you don't find him in Mexico?"

  
"Then I'm gonna turn this fucking world upside down," Lydia said through her clenched teeth. "I'm not gonna change my mind, mom. I'm not gonna stop."

  
"Alright then!" Natalie said, defeated. "Go to Mexico! Drive to the horizon!"

  
Lydia ignored the irony on her voice. "Okay, mom! Love you, bye!'

  
She hung up and tossed the phone aside. Stiles was not picking up and she didn't want to hear anyone telling her to go back, so she wasn't going to need it anyway.

  
A thunder made her jump on her seat. Suddenly, pouring rain starts falling. Cursing, she turned on the windshield and squinted her eyes to see through the rain. Well, that was definitely going to slow her down, but she wasn't pulling over. The sky could be falling down and she still wouldn't stop. There could be a fucking hurricane...

  
And the low fuel light came on.

"Oh, come _on_!" She yelled. "Fuck!"

  
Now there was nothing she could do; she had to stop. She tried to remember if she had driven past a gas station, which she had, but it was too far back and she was already going to waste too much time filling the tank. She prayed for a gas station to appear in the landscape like she never had to before. She couldn't have her car running out of gas in a desert road under that pouring rain; because if that happened, she wouldn't find Stiles nor go back home.

  
When Lydia was almost crying in desperation, a light comes on her site. A gas station. She cheered loudly and pulled over, already unbuckling her seatbelt. She jumped out of the car as soon as she parked it and ran to one of the pumps

.  
"Fucking piece of shit!" She heard someone scream from somewhere in the gas station. No, not someone. Her heart started racing. What were the odds?

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx  
Stiles was having a good day. He had woken up early, had a nice breakfast and a nice shower. But the best thing was: he was leaving. After weeks of preparations and making a list of places he wanted to meet, it was finally the day where he would but his baggage on his Jeep and just go.

  
"So, you're really doing this, hun?" Scott asked after throwing the last bag in the car. He had been trying to talk his brother out of it, but he knew it was a lost battle.

  
"Yes, I am," Stiles happily answered.

  
Scott sighed. "Well, I did what I could." They hugged, tapping each others backs. "Stay in touch ok? Cause if you don't, I will hunt you down."

  
"Yeah, right." He rolled his eyes. "But not for a while. My phone is dead."

  
"You're going on a road trip to Mexico and your phone is fucking dead?" Scott shook his head. "You had one job, Stiles."

  
"I will be ok. I promise," he said, trying to sound honest when the truth was he didn't know if he would be ok. Not all the time.

  
"Yeah, right," Scott mocked.

  
Stiles got in the car and started it, leaving Scott waving goodbye behind him. He drove faster when he got on the open road, opened his window and turned the radio on. It felt weird to be this happy. Maybe it was just a rush, something that you feel when you're high on something. Maybe it would go away with time and leave him empty. He wondered if he would have to spend the rest of his life chasing these rushes, chasing a reason to wake up every morning, because he had none. But still, he had to keep going, even if he only lived for some artificial happiness. It wasn't exactly a life, but at least it was something.

  
For a moment, he thought about Lydia. He wondered about how she was doing. Stiles never called, and Scott was careful not to talk about her, so he could only wonder. How was she going on with her life? Had she gone back to school, or make any friends? Had she... met someone else? This thought made him want to vomit. He never would want to even think about Lydia with another person. With someone else's hands touching her, strange lips kissing her... Stiles shook his head. That was why he never allowed himself to think about her. It was too painful and weird to see his girl living someone else's life.

  
A loud crashing noise pulled him out of his reveries. Black smoke came from the engines, making him cough. "No, no, no, no..." He pleaded as the Jeep slowed down and then stopped moving. "Damn it!"

  
He left the car and lifted the hood. The dense smoke made him cough harder and his eyes tear up. He bent down to see the damage: nothing that more duct tape wouldn't fix. Stiles walked to the back of his car, where he kept his tool box, then went back to the engines and started working. It was nothing he hadn't done before; the car would be fine. He worked for an hour before straightening his back and analyzing his work. I looked pretty good. He went back inside the car and prayed for it to work. On the third attempt, the Jeep finally started and he resumed his journey.

  
Except it did not work, and a few miles later, the car stopped again. This time, not matter what he did, it did not start again. He had to go see a mechanic. Cursing, he walked to the back of the car and pushed the Jeep. For a second, he thought it wouldn't move and that he was definitely screwed, but the wheels started turning slowly. Now he only had to push the damn Jeep to the next gas station, where he might find a mechanic, or someone that actually knows what they're doing. His muscles burned when he saw the lights of a gas station sign. Sighing, he kept pushing and moving slowly until someone there saw him and offered help.

  
After hours of people trying to do something to fix the Jeep, Stiles received the diagnosis: irreparable. You can sell it's pieces. What was left of his heart broke. He couldn't lose his Jeep. They had lived so much together, he couldn't just give it away. The mechanic left him alone, like a doctor does to the patient's family, so he could digest it.

  
Stiles kicked the tire. "Fucking piece of shit!" He screamed.

  
He heard someone gasping behind him. He turned, ready to argue with anyone who didn't like his vocabulary, but when he saw the girl standing behind him, his mind went blank. There she was, covering her mouth with her hand while tears fell from her eyes. His heart stopped beating.

  
"Lydia?" He said, his voice coming out as a whisper. He cleared his throat. "What are you doing here?"

  
"I've been looking for you," she answered, her voice breaking.

  
"W-Why?"

  
"I... I..." For his surprise, she burst out a laugh, putting a strand her hair behind her ear. "I didn't know I would be this nervous."

  
"What it is?" He asked, slightly concerned. Her mere presence set a fire inside him, hearing her voice was like coming up for air. Lydia stepped closer to him, leaving two steps of distance between them. Stiles could smell her perfume. Being this close to her made the world stop. He wanted to hold her and never let her go. He realized he couldn't live if he couldn't see her, touch her. He could try and run away, but he would be nothing but an empty body. She had his soul, his everything.

  
"Stiles," she said, looking deep into his eyes. Hearing his name on her voice made his knees weak. "I remember you."

Stiles stopped breathing. "You... You what?"

  
"I remember you," she repeated. "You, and every moment we spent together. I remember everything."

  
"Oh my god," he murmured, looking at her face. " _Oh my god_!"

  
Without waiting another second, he held her, tighter than he ever did before. They melted into each other, both crying a smiling at the same time. Their heart beat together, they breathed in unison. Time and earth stopped.

  
Lydia inhaled deeply the smell of his hoodie. His smell. Being there, embraced by his strong arms, surrounded by his heat, felt like being alive. If he'd let her, she would be there forever, until the end of everything. She didn't think she could be any happier, but then he took his arms from around her waist, placed both on each side of her face and kissed her. Lydia felt like they were floating. She felt like her heart was going to explode on her chest, but at the same, she was peaceful.

  
Kissing Lydia felt like coming home. Stiles could almost feel the pieces of his heart getting back together, making him whole again. He didn't know how could he possibly think of going on with his life without that girl. She was a fundamental part of him, the part that made him work. His heart was her heart, his soul was her soul. Be apart wasn't an option.

  
"I love you," he whispered. "I love you more than anything."

  
Lydia smiled against his lips. "I love you too."


	30. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is it, the final chapter (crowd whines). But first, I have one thing to say: THANK YOU! Thank all of you for the kind words, and the kudos, they were all the support I needed to write this story. Write thirty chapters (thirty, really?) is not something easy, at least not for me, who tends to give up when things get too hard (and writer's block is REALLY hard!). Your support made me work on this fic for over a year, and it was a pleasure to read your opinions in every chapter. YOU GUYS ARE AMAZING!!
> 
> And by the way, I may be finishing this fic, but I have some ideas written down, so this is definitely NOT the last time you guys see me around here! (My next fics may not be as big as this one, but I think they will be pretty good)
> 
> Enjoy the season finale! Love you!

Everything around Stiles was red.

He was lying in a strange position in the wrecked car. The dead silence bothered him, it rang in his ears. He looked around. It was too dark inside the car, and he also couldn't see anything outside. All he could see was blood. Dark red spots that shone in the dark, reminding him that something horrible happened, and that he was surrounded by the blood of the people he loved the most. He cried as he called for his parents, but he knew no one would answer it. He closed his eyes and waited for death.  
  
"Stiles." A sweet voice called his name. But that voice didn't belong in that place. He couldn't see who was calling for him. "Stiles," she called again. This time, he felt someone shaking him. "Wake up."  
  
Stiles opened his eyes, pulled out of his dream. He was sweating and panting, like he ran for miles, but it was nothing like the many panic attacks he had had alone in his room. This time there were soft, small hands caressing his hair and arm, there was a voice whispering  things like 'its ok', and 'I'm here', or simply 'shh...shh...', and when he rolled on the bed, his eyes met two big, green ones.   
  
After all those years they had been together, Stiles never got used to waking up beside Lydia. Even though every time he told her that she would blush and tell him he was lying, he did think she looked beautiful when she woke up.   
  
"Hi," she murmured, rubbing her thumb softly against his cheek.   
  
"Hey," he murmured back, watching her.   
  
"Same dream?" He nodded. They almost never happened now, but in that day on particular, it was almost a tradition to have it. Because in that same date, many years ago, he had lived the worst night of his life. And it was the only day he visited the place he disliked the most, even more than hospitals; the graveyard. "Why don't you go take a shower while I make us breakfast, hun?"  
  
"Okay," he said, leaning in to kiss her. Ah, the morning kisses. The best way to start the day.   
  
When Stiles got to the kitchen, there was a plate full of waffles waiting for him. He sat down and started eating, which was always fun to watch in Lydia's opinion. He always said she made the best waffles, and he ate them like it was his last chance of ever eating again.   
  
Lydia got ready as Stiles cleaned the kitchen, then they left. They had done this annual trip together several times now, and Stiles always appreciated her company. Scott and Allison were going to join them there. After buying some flowers, they walked hand in hand to his parent's grave. It was always hard to read their names on the stone, Lydia knew that, so she held his hand tighter.   
  
"Hi, mom. Hi, dad," he said, placing the flowers on the dirt. He looked down at the stone for a few more minutes before turning to face his wife. "Didn't Scott say he was coming too?"  
  
"Yeah... Wait," she said, fishing her buzzing phone from her handbag and reading the name on the screen. "It's him."   
  
"Hey, Scott," she greeted him. "Where..." She interrupted herself, eyes going wide as two plates. "What?"  
  
"What? What is it?" Stiles asked, distressed. Lydia held a finger up to silence him.   
  
"How is she...?" She asked, grabbing her husband by the arm and pushing him towards the exit. "Okay, we're on our way."   
  
"Lydia, what is it?" He asked as they got to the car.   
  
"Allison's water broke!" She half screamed, half laughed.   
  
"Really? Holy shit!" Stiles pressed the gas pedal and drove to the hospital over the speed limit. "Scott must be freaking out!"  
  
When they got to the hospital wing where Allison's nursery room was, they found Scott waiting for them in the hallway, practically climbing up the walls. Stiles rushed to hug his brother, and so did Lydia. The door opened so Allison's gourney could be pushed to the delivery room.   
  
"Stiles! Lydia!" A very sweaty and tired Allison greeted them. When they were about to say something back, Allison clenched her teeth and let out an almost inhuman scream. "Oh my god, Scott your child is gonna kill me!"   
  
"No, it won't, honey. I'm right here," Scott said, grabbing her hand. He walked alongside the gurney, looking back to send a desperate look to Stiles, who sent him an encouraging smile.   
  
They waited around until Scott came running out of the delivery room, a huge smile on his face. "It's a boy! It's a boy!"  He yelled for the whole hospital to hear. Stiles hugged him, laughing along. Lydia came into the room to meet her best friend. Allison was lying down, face covered in sweat, smiling to the tiny baby in her arms.   
  
"Hey, Ally," Lydia murmured, smiling too.  Allison looked up to her best friend, eyes filled with tears.   
  
"He's so perfect," she said, amazed.   
  
"Yes, he is", Lydia agreed, grabbing the baby's little hand between her fingers.   
  
"Do you want to hold him?"   
  
Lydia looked her. "Yeah, I do."  
  
Allison placed the baby in Lydia's arms carefully. Lydia looked down at the little package, barely moving. A strange sensation took over her, like a hug that made her warm inside. She was so happy to be there for her best friend, holding her nephew.   
  
"Hi there, little guy," she said in that voice made for little kids. She rubbed her index finger gently against his tiny cheek.   
  
The door opened behind her. Scott came to sit beside his wife, putting  his arms around her and kissing her forehead. Lydia felt arms hugging her from behind. Stiles placed his chin on her shoulder, looking at the little boy in her arms. Lydia stepped closer to Allison, who held up her arms to nest her son.   
  
"Can't wait to have one," Stiles said as they watched one of the best days of their best friends' life.   
  
"Good," she said, smiling, "cause yours is kicking."  
  
"Really?" Lydia nodded, grabbing his hand and placing it in a specific spot on her five month belly. He stared at it until he felt a small kick against his hand. "Holy..."  
  
"Don't, there's a baby in the room," Allison scolded.   
  
"Sorry." Lydia laughed as Stiles kissed her cheek.   
  
"Do you know if it's a boy or a girl yet?" Scott asked.   
  
"No, not yet," Lydia answered, turning her head to face her husband. "But I know it will be perfect either way."  
  
"Yeah, me too," he said, leaning in to kiss her. "I do wish it's a boy, though," he half whispered to Scott in a conspiratorial tone, causing everyone to laugh. Lydia slapped his arm, but Stiles only laughed harder and kissed her again. 


	31. Wattpad!

HELLO GUYS! Omg, it feels like forever since the last time I posted here... I'm here to annouce that this fic is now on Wattpad! I decided to edit it a little bit and post it there because I'm absolutely IN LOVE with Wattpad, so I was like 'hm, why the hell not'. AND, I'm about to post a brand new story there! When I started writing it, it was a Stydia fanfic, but I decided to turn it into a original, so I won't be posting it here :/ But it's gonna be soo cool, I promise! I'm **colormaniac** on Wattpad and, oh, I've got some a-ma-zing stories on my reading list, check it out! None of them are Stydia, but they are romances and oh god they are so good. THANK YOU GUYS, GOODBYE :)


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